The Legend of Spyro: Revolution
by Sir Areis Lionheart
Summary: Mere days after the fall of Warfang, Spyro returns to the ruins to find a loved one, then, he finds himself in more trouble as a long-dead evil from his past returns. Rated M: For Intense War Violence, Strong Language, and Sexual Content
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_From the Journal of Sgt. Randall Carter Fox..._

_May 30, 02:27 PM_:

I understand it has been a long time since I had last picked my diary up, but I feel that what I say must be recorded, or I may find myself driven mad with memories that I can't confirm when I am old. Obviously, many things have happened since the Rebels had taken over, but somehow a few otherworldly friends had prevented the Rebel takeover, and now life works as it once had before the assassination of Alec Carson. I have to begin somewhere, so I guess it will begin shortly after we successfully saved the lives of two dragons from Avalar-a mysterious country in an otherworldly realm-from the grasp of the United States military.

Since I saw the demise of General Elliot once more, this time, sniped while we were making our escape from a maximum security prison in a little military suburb of New York City, I have felt that perhaps I have seen too much death and destruction for one lifetime. I had lived through several lifetimes, as strangely as it sounds, it is true. I thought I had been killed while fighting Malaskus in the belfry of Fort Dread's bell tower, in the grand finale of the Apocalypse. Even today, I close my eyes and see the blood running between my fingers, feeling the sharp pain as the sword ran through me, feeling the paralysis, the instant numbness as the Minotaur's sword severed my spinal cord upon its exit...and yet...I open my eyes, and that true reality is proven false.

What is real anymore? Piermont had once told me that in an alternate reality, Martaan-my home base after I left Fort Zero-had been nuked and sunk to the very bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. Yet, I look on Google Earth, and after scouring the maps, I insert the coordinates of the island...and there she is...in all her beauty, untouched by the Rebel chemical bombs that had caused a mass exodus and left the island uninhabited in yet another reality. I ask again, what is real? What is reality? Are we dead? Is this all just a dream? Is there a single real reality? Or is the entire universe constructed of multiple realities, all living amongst themselves in perfect harmony? Are the multiple realities equal? Or are all realities circling around a certain, concreted universe, like the planets circling our sun? These questions haunt and plague every waking moment of my life.

I know this is confusing, but now you see how I perceive it. I have seen more than I have ever wished to. Spyro and Cynder...well...they had advanced in their relationship, and I find it amazing that former enemies are now relatives. Quoting Piermont's words, "Dragons don't get married, obviously, but instead become mates for life. We consider ourselves relatives, not husband and wife." I feared for Spyro's health following Warfang's fall...when we escaped...having to leave Cynder behind...wish I could have undone that decision.

I thought we had returned to our normal world when Spyro once more teleported us from the razed Warfang to NYC. It turns out though...we were wrong...dead wrong...

We had but entered yet another reality, one where a civil war raged on and on. There were but two capital cities, New York...and New Alexandria...not the city of the fictional planet of Reach mind you...but a heavily defended metropolis nevertheless. The capitals remained untouched, as the opposition rarely advanced very far into enemy territory. The border line, known as the "Devil's Curtain", sustained the brunt of the war. If not for meeting the _Caeda_ of this reality, however, we might have never known there was a war occurring, and perhaps, we would not have made it out of New Alexandria alive.


	2. Chapter I: Fallout Part One

**_Mission I - Operation: Lifeline_**

**Mission Details**:  
>Warfang, Avalar<br>March 15, 5:25 AM  
>Sector A16: Main Gate<br>_Primary Objective_: Locate Survivors  
><em>Secondary Objective<em>: Locate Evidence to Cynder's Current Whereabouts  
>Last Known Whereabouts: Sector A15: Citadel<br>Current Whereabouts: _Unknown_  
>Last Contact: March 1, 4:31 PM<br>Personnel Involved: Spyro, Fox, Reznov, S117, Commander

**Mission I - Part I: Fallout ****_Part One_**** - Return**

The air above the lonesome Valley of Avalar was cold, crisp, and still, unmoving, as the immense plume of smoke marking Warfang, as black as the midnight sky against the lavender skies, stood visible for miles. Out of the dark skies on the Ides of March, a deep, mechanical drone emerged, disturbing the eerie, predawn silence. The drone soon became a whir as a pitch black, steel bird appeared above the horizon. The whirlybird flew above the dark valley, heading towards the plume of smoke.

Within the chopper, a small, scarred, young, energetic purple dragon with a yellow belly, eyes of deep shining amethyst, golden spines, crooked gold horns, and orange wings, slept soundly. His large, closed eyed were red, swollen, the result of days of nearly continuous sobbing while cowering in the massive mountains and forests of Avalar. He had recently lost his pregnant mate of two days-a beautiful, dark purple, almost black dragoness with shining, sapphire-emerald eyes, ivory horns and talons, violet belly and wings, and a heart of gold inside a vicious, scarred body with spiked bracelets and collar-to the sinister Herrmann-Reid Armored Division, an army of 1500 tanks, 2000 infantry, and 750 pieces of aircraft. Seemingly dreaming of his mate, who he was forced to leave behind as he was carted to safety thanks to an injury she sustained, Spyro let out a mournful wail in his sleep.

The only one paying the dragon any mind was a tall, skinny, battle-scarred, young man known only as the Commander. The Commander wore a wrinkled, tan officer's uniform and an officer's cap with a gold-bordered silver pin depicting an attacking dragon. He bore many colored bars on his breast, depicting much battle experience during his time, alarming for someone his age. He had ordered the evacuation of Warfang upon realization that it would not win the battle. The overpowered Herrmann-Reid not only outnumbered the city's defenders, but the outdated 50 foot thick, 200 foot tall perimeter walls were no match against the futuristic ballistics of the division. To the Commander, it was the lesser of two evils, saving millions of lives versus allowing the capital city of Avalar to fall. The decision was simple, he chose the most humane decision, save the innocents, and he did so, refusing to even ponder the repercussions to the government and economy if the capital fell. They wouldn't have been able to survive and repel anyways, even if by some God-given miracle they did, the cost would have be a very high body count, not only of _Caeda_, the Commander's army, but of innocent civilians as well. So, the Herrmann-Reid invaded without resistance, hopefully abandoning the capital, leaving a razed city in its wake.

Unbeknownst to Spyro, the Commander stared at him, fingering the trigger of his silencer-modified AK47, a look of slight, sadistic pleasure in his eyes. The wails of the purple dragon resulted in a slight, bemused curving of his lips, almost, as if, he was enjoying the purple dragon's suffering.

_"Cynder!"  
>"Spyro! Stop! Save yourself!"<br>"Not without you!"_

"Cynder! No!" Spyro cried, shooting up.

His cries alerted and awoke the others in the chopper.

"What's wrong?" Sergeant Randall Fox, a tall, skinny man with glasses, thick, graying hair, a five o'clock shadow, and wearing dingy BDUs asked, deeply concerned.

"The boy dreams of his lost love," Reznov answered, his voice slow, clear, and silent, his story-telling voice. Sergeant Viktor Reznov was an aging Russian with salt-and-pepper, buzz-cut hair hidden beneath a Soviet winter cap matching his Soviet winter uniform, and a wrinkled face with fierce brown, inset eyes and a brown beard.

"Sure seems that way. Hope the kid can keep it down when we're sneaking around Sniper Alley though," the Master Chief added. He spoke in a constant sarcastic tone that often annoyed his companions, and he sheltered a lone wolf personality, making it extremely difficult for him to cooperate in a team without running out on a rampant and often endangering himself and his fellow soldiers. An experimental SPARTAN supersoldier, S117 wore a faded, mossy-green uniform composed entirely of armored plates. His helmet, like his uniform, showed none of his natural traits. His 7 foot tall, over 1000 pound mass made him the largest of his allies. The gold visor covering his eyes was scuffed, but clean, and reflected the dim light.

"Might want to dim your headlights, Champ," the Commander replied smartly, directing his words at the SPARTAN, "You're shinin' like ol' Rudolph."

Master Chief glared over at the Commander, grabbed a handful of dirt from the chopper floor, and smeared it on his visor. "Better?" The Chief asked, sounding irritated.

"Much," the Commander replied, seemingly frightened.

Suddenly, the pilot called back in an Australian accent, "A'ight! Get ready, we're landing in ten minutes."


	3. Chapter II: Fallout Part Two

**Mission I - Part II: Fallout ****_Part Two_**** - Arrival**

-_6:51 AM_-

The black chopper landed among the ashes and embers of a building, completely burned down. The pilot waited for the engine of the chopper to completely die down, and for the propellers to completely stop moving before he nodded at his passengers to go. The Master Chief shoved his way outside, activating his overshields with a flash of brilliant blue. Blue lightning crawling across his armor, he reached into a bag by his side and pulled out a pair of infrared binoculars, putting them against his visor.

Spyro, eager to search for his mate, shoved his way to the front of the chopper and prepared to hop out. "Hold on, Spyro," the Chief said, head never moving, scope still to his eyes. He raised a hand, gesturing for Spyro to remain still.

Reluctantly, the dragon followed orders, letting a low, distressed groan from deep within his throat. Unhappy, his taut muscles relaxed, and he pulled back inside. Fox watched Spyro's actions, the scientist knew very well what it was like missing the one you loved, not knowing if they were alive. He distinctly remembered two instances where he felt the deep anxiety Spyro obviously felt. One of them was a memory from the old doctor's childhood, a socially awkward boy genius, the constant victim of bullies. Then Fox had met his first, true friend...Terramus, whom he had called Tare-Tare. A fledgling, misplaced forest dragon somehow coming from the Caribbean paradise of Martaan, to the heart of San Francisco, California, the dragon was about three feet long and two feet tall from the tip of his 6 inch long horns to two inch long, curved claws. His scales were a deep, army green, and he had emerald eyes, a cream-colored belly, cream-colored wings, and creamed-colored spines, horns, and claws. His two horns were slightly curved back, ribbed, and the main defining factor of him as a male as his streamlined body didn't allow any notable features to be visible. His slightly back curved spines were not even three inches long. He had five claws per paw, four on the front of each paw, and one on the rear. His herbivorous teeth were smooth, small, and white.

Avoiding bullies, young Randall had hid in a dilapidated hotel, scheduled for demolition. While protesters postponed the imminent demolition, Fox had bonded with this dragon, until the day came where the building was destroyed, Tare-Tare gone, and only a few spatters of blood to mark his former presence. Fox remembered he had drawn a picture of him and Tare-Tare holding hands, an eight-year-old's series of scribbles...but with great meaning. The picture had been intended to give to the dragon, but when Fox discovered him gone, he had held onto the picture for many years, until Martaan had been annihilated by a nuclear missile in the summer of 1989.

The other time was when his wife and young, seven year old daughter had been kidnapped...and killed...by the Shadow-Demon Necrodusk, during the demon's razing of the doctor's mansion in New York City. Necrodusk had been a massive, seven foot tall, pitch-black figure, made entirely of smoke. His two foot tall, crooked horns were composed of a pitch black stone with veins of lava-Magma Diamond-an extremely rare volcanic rock that was harder than diamond. The demon had three curved, foot-long, razor-sharp, bony claws per hand with strange, mountain-shaped juts of bone protruding from each knuckle. The demon hovered, his body had ended at the waist, and his eyes were two, yellow, upside-down hemispheres bent at 45 degree angles, a trail of purple smoke acting as eyebrows. His mouth was but a circle lined with thousands of razor-sharp fangs. A dragon, obsessed with summoning the archdemon, had resurrected the demon using the drained power of the elemental orbs, the archaic blood of the demon, and the strange power of a solar eclipse. Necrodusk had escaped to New York City, casting the warm, summer day into a dark, eternal winter, turning all living organisms into stone statues.

Oh yes, Fox knew how Spyro felt, and he prayed that Cynder and the baby were alive and healthy.

"Okay," the Chief announced, his surveillance of the area complete, "We're safe. Let's establish a secure base camp here, then we'll go out."

"But Cynder-!"

"We'll find her Spyro, don't you worry my friend," Reznov interrupted, climbing out, "Dead or alive, we'll find her."

The Commander, climbing out, said, "Fox? Why don't you take Spyro out? Me, Vik, and the Chief'll do fine here by ourselves."

"We can do that," Fox agreed with a nod.

"Oh thank God!" Spyro hopped out and onto the glass-littered, busted concrete floor, running quickly across the burning hot ground.

"Wait Spyro! Wait for me!"

Spyro stopped abruptly, but not because of Fox's request. He kneeled on the ground, spying the puddle of dried blood. He crawled to what was obviously once a window...and he saw a low-lying stone wall. To his right and up ahead was the main entrance gate.

"Oh my God..." Spyro whispered.

_"Ember!"_

Spyro couldn't believe where he was...he was...

_"Alpha One to Eagle's Nest! Alpha One to Eagle's Nest! Requesting air lift! Repeat! Requesting air lift!"_

_It can't be!_ he thought. He was where they had been pinned down before Ember, Flame, Master Chief, and Reznov evacuated in the escape gunship, where the Commander, Fox, himself...and Cynder...had been left behind. The building that once stood, however, was completely gone.

Feeling tears begin again, Spyro spied a shining object laying on the ground within the grass. He picked it up, two golden wedding rings, fused together to make an "8" shape by the heat of the fires that razed the building. He clutched it tightly, feeling the inset diamonds in one of the rings press into his palm. It wasn't just two rings, it was a wedding band...for a husband...and a wedding ring...for a wife...

He tried breaking the rings apart, but they were fused tightly together. Not wanting to leave it behind (he had an idea what to do with it), he found a golden chain on the floor of the former jewelry store, still intact. He unclasped the chain, placed the fused rings onto it, and clasped it around his neck, hoping no one noticed it.

Spyro stood in front of the window where he and Cynder had huddled together as RPGs and mortars blasted all around them, fingering the two rings in deep thought. _Somewhere_, he thought, _Cynder is out there. The question is...where?_

"Are you ready to go, Spyro?" Fox asked, startling the purple dragon from behind.

"Aye."

"C'mon then, let's go."


	4. Chapter III: Fallout Part Three

**Mission I - Part III: Fallout ****_Part Three_**** - Ground Zero**

-_12:20 PM_-

"Cynder! Cynder! Where are you!" The purple dragon's desperation was thick in his voice, and fear emerged as well.

Fox understood Spyro's distress, but it was all the human could do to keep up with the hysterical, sprinting dragon. "Spyro! Spyro, for the love of Christ, remember one of us is not as fit as he used to be!"

"Cynder!" The terrified dragon did not hear the elderly scientist. Cynder was the only one on his mind, the only thing he cared about. He would die of starvation before he stopped looking for his mate. Depression radiated from the pale, skinny dragon like heat from the sun. Spyro had not fed or drank since he was forced to leave Cynder behind. Fox was amazed Spyro was still alive, even with a broken heart and after seemingly lost the will to live.

Spyro slid to a stop in front of a bombed-out, stone church, growing silent immediately. The wind whistled as it blew quickly through the obliterated buildings. Fox limped, gasping heavily, to the purple dragon, and stopped, putting his hands on his knees and struggling to catch his breath. "Thanks," Fox managed.

Spyro didn't answer, didn't even hear the scientist...he didn't stop for his companion.

Realizing that Spyro had apparently forgotten the human, Fox asked, "Why did we stop?"

He then saw why Spyro had stopped...

Two weeks earlier, in the heat of battle, where the only thought was to survive for as long as possible, the four soldiers left behind had sprinted to a church, scaled it via the fire escape, and had covered behind the steeple. Although a shell of its former self, much like the rest of the city, the Citadel was still recognizable.

The Citadel...Ground Zero.

Spyro crept towards the building, slowly, not fearing any snipers that may have decided to camp out around the ruined buildings, but fearing what he'd find where he had last seen his mate alive. His blank, silenced face showing no emotion, he stepped onto the groaning, nearly-collapsed stairwell with every bit of care and precision as an arthritic old man. Once more, he cared not of his safety, but of his discovery. Fox could sense the conflicting emotions in the purple dragon, he didn't want to see the site where he had last seen his mate...but he also was anxious...excited even...to see the site of Cynder's last stand.

Groaning unhappily, Fox stepped cautiously onto the nearly-collapsed stairwell, cringing when it groaned and shifted beneath his weight. Taking a deep breath...and holding it...he began his ascent, following at a much slower pace than the purple dragon, who himself was crawling as fast as a turtle.

Eventually, Spyro stepped off the stairwell and onto the cracked, faded red, clay-shingled church roof. The place he was positioned at, the spot where Cynder fell was on the opposite side of the triangular-slanted roof. Fox emerged, nearly ramming the precariously-positioned, still, purple dragon. The roof was 50 feet above the ground, Fox glanced down and winced. Being above most of the surrounding buildings, the wind was much stronger up here, and Fox feared that he would fall off. He glanced around uneasily at the busted clay shingles, missing in several places and revealing the charred interior. Judging by the shattered debris lying around the building, the shingles were becoming detatched, meaning if Fox trudged on the wrong spot, the shingles could give out and slide off the slant...taking him with them to their fate.

"Spyro, I don't think it's safe up here, I'm going back down."

The dragon took a deep breath, and, ignoring him, began his slow advance across the roof. Fox took one step on the protesting stairs, wincing as they groaned, then paused atop the platform, glancing at Spyro. Sighing, Fox fumbled his way across the roof, following Spyro. Finally, the site of Cynder's last stand was in full view. Spyro gasped as an object shined in the sun, "Cynder..." He whispered, his voice a harsh croak.

He began crying again as he ran to the object! "Cynder!"

At Spyro's cries, Fox sped up, forgetting all caution, and slid to a stop on the roof's peak.

Spyro held a torn collar. The spikes and steel of the steel-clad leather collar were brown with dried blood. The stress marks and tears on the strap showed that it had been ripped from her neck. The vast amount of dried blood staining the immediate vicinity as well as the rotting, stinking corpses laying strewn both on the roof and on the ground showed Cynder hadn't gone down without a fight. At least four corpses were disemboweled, dry, bloated ropes of intestine black from the cooking fires and crawling with maggots, two had been decapitated, and three had had their throats slit.

However, among the piles of bodies, Cynder's was nowhere to be found. Either she had been killed and her body hidden, killed and her body dumped somewhere else, or taken captive. If the latter, Spyro hoped she was still alive. Although he secretly doubted that, after two weeks, she was still alive.

Closing his streaming eyes, he gripped the torn collar tightly...


	5. Chapter IV: Fallout Part Four

**Mission I - Part IV: Fallout ****_Part Four_**** - Cynder**

-_Two Weeks Earlier_-

..."Spyro! Stop! Save yourself!" Cynder called, clinging to the roof by her injured hind leg. Thick, dark red blood dripped lazily from her bullet wound and into the gutter. The standing rainwater immediately changed color as tendrils of red spread outward from the point of contact.

"Not without you!" Spyro began sliding down the roof towards Cynder before the Commander grabbed him by his horn and began dragging him to the chopper.

_Thank you_, her eyes said.

The Commander, as if hearing her, nodded. Cynder watched, trying to show no emotion, trying not to scream for them to stop, to come back for her, as the helicopter arose into the air and took off. The infantry that had been scaling the fire escape immediately surrounded her. Cynder, still watching as the helicopter became a distant, black dot and eventually disappeared below the horizon, mouthed _I love you, Spyro. Forgive me..._

The helicopter now gone, Cynder realized that she was alone, abandoned, they would not come back for her. With this realization, she felt reservoirs of rage, long-suppressed, bubble up deep inside of her. Knowing she was alone, the last one left in the city, she allowed her primal instincts to take charge. She allowed the long-sealed floodgates of her bottled rage to open wide, and her eyes burned with a merciless fire, characteristic of when she was still corrupted by Malefor. Fueled not only by her instincts to survive, but also of something else now, completely new to her...the protective rage of a mother...she charged the enemies. As the soldiers gathered around her and started beating her with the butts of their weapons, she smiled in sick, sadistic pleasure.

Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she unleashed hell in the form of her slashing talons, thrusting horns, swinging tail, and razor-sharp bite of her fangs. As the body count grew, the taste of vengeance grew sweeter, and her bloodthirsty passion to survive overwhelmed all remorse she might have felt. Her bloodlust only grew as the alarmed soldiers tried to mass attack and overwhelm her. She felt something press against her neck tightly, cutting off her breath. Rage gave way to euphoria as oxygen was cut off from her brain. One of the soldiers was trying to strangle her with her own collar.

As her oxygen ran dry, and she felt unconsciousness draw near, she knew she couldn't pass out, she couldn't, she would die if she did. The infantry, unable to fire their weapons in such close proximity to one another, resorted to melee combat. _Can't sleep..._ she thought, _...Will die!_.

But sleep seemed so tantalizing, so comfortable. _No! Must...live!_ her thoughts screamed, _SPYRO!_

The thought of her beloved stoked the fires of her rage again, and staying awake grew easier. With a distinct ripping sound, she felt an immense pressure relieve itself from her neck. The rush of cool, sweet air, perfumed with the sweet, natural scent of wood smoke, and the putrid, coppery odor of blood, felt good, and awoke her. As the offending collar ripped from her neck, a spike snagging on her scale and drawing a stream of blood, which felt cool dripping down her hot, perspiring face, she stepped up her efforts and fought viciously against the alarmed infantry.

She could not recall how long her wave of blind rage lasted, only that it seemed to short. Her kill count steadily increased as her blast of adrenaline-fueled anger dissipated, decaying into extreme fatigue far too rapidly. Her stamina was almost sapped, despite the fact she was extremely physically fit compared to most dragons. Finally, her hellish storm ended prematurely as she felt a blunt object smash itself against the back of her skull. A disgusting crunch and the cold flow of a flood of blood spewing from her busted skull accompanied the sudden toss into unconsciousness. Within a second, the vibrant, sharpened colors twinkled out completely.

* * * * *

Her eyes slowly opened, she was breathing heavily. She was vaguely aware that she was surrounded by enemies and being dragged across the road. Her entire body was still numb, but she could sense the road burns she was getting on her bloodsoaked back, slick with blood and sweat. Vision composed of dull colors, she glanced around, seeing the trail of blood, a mixture of her blood and the blood of all the men she killed, leading them. She looked up. The skies flashed with balls of fire that completely illuminated the cloudy, nighttime skies. When the sky lit up, she saw hundreds if not thousands of planes, black crosses against the dark maroon skies.

Suddenly, a voice, tinted with malice whispered in her ear, "Nighty, night Sweet Cheeks," and she felt another blow to her head before dark oblivion enveloped her once again...

...Spyro opened his stinging eyes, dropping the collar into the gutter out of alarm from the vision he had just witnessed. Once his breath steadied, and the fear dissipated, he tenderly picked up the collar, holding it gently to his breast, _where are you, Cynder?_


	6. Chapter V: Fallout Part Five

**Mission I - Part V: Fallout ****_Part Five_**** - Reunion**

-_3:18 PM_-

Spyro landed in the center of the busted, buckled, concrete road. Spyro seemed more aware now, and he turned back to Fox, "Fox, take a look at this."

Fox appeared beside Spyro, the dirt-coated road had a crooked, wide, black stripe across it. Upon closer examination, Fox could see what looked like plowed earth, a trench carved into the thick lair of dust. The way the sand clumped on and around the stripe, it was obvious it had once been wet. Fox touched the clumps, sticky... "Blood," he said.

Spyro nodded, "Yes."

"And by the drag marks..."

"Cynder's been here," Spyro sighed.

"Look here also," Fox pointed at several distinct footprints...Cynder's... "Looks like she was being dragged when she decided to struggle."

"So she's alive," Spyro said, a faint smile emerging on his depressed face.

"Well...ish...she was alive at this point anyways, hard telling when this happened, or of she's still alive. Judging by the congealed blood, and the dryness of it, I'd estimate it's been about one or two weeks."

"Dammit."

"Now don't lose hope Spyro, she might be okay..."

"Or she might not."

"True...but stop being negative. C'mon, let's follow this trail."

They started following the bloody stripe, and Fox's radio buzzed.

"Fox here."

The voice of the Master Chief came online, "Status report?"

"We might have found a lead."

"Good, bring her home Sergeant."

"If we can, sir."

* * * * *

The stripe began to diminish and fade as they traveled farther along the road. Eventually, the stripe faded completely away, turning into an alley. The alley was a dead end, and Fox stated, "She must be around here somewhere...check the buildings."

Together, the duo checked every one of the six buildings whose doors opened into the alley. On the sixth and final building they entered, dried blood droplets dotted the earth, leaving liquid stains on the packed, dirt floor. "Check the house," Fox commanded in a whisper.

They did, moving as quietly as they could, suddenly, Fox spied a basement door, locked and chained, but he easily bashed it down. AK47 cocked and ready to fire, Fox entered the cool basement, gun-mounted flashlight shining its bright, LED beam. The basement reeked of death and decay, and Fox abruptly had to cover his nose. "Come out! Wherever you are!" He commanded, "I order you, too!"

Silence before he thought he heard a muffled scream.

"Who goes there?" He commanded, slowly descending the steps, ready to fire if needed. The last four feet of the stairwell were missing, and Fox tripped. He swore as he picked himself up, reaching for his gun. Picking it up, he shined the light around the dark basement, and his eyes grew large, "Oh my God! Spyro! Get your ass down here!"

From the second story, Spyro could hear the doctor's harsh command. Fearing something happened, he hurriedly rushed downstairs, "Fox! Where are you! Is everything okay?"

"Down here fatass!"

"Down where?"

"The basement, goddammit!"

Spyro spied the opened door and glided down, turning away in disgust at the noxious odor of the basement.

"My God Spyro...look!"

Fox panned his flashlight across the room, and illuminated the prison. There were a total of seven cells, three on each side of the room and one against the far wall. The bars were rusty and bent, obviously never meant to be used as a prison, more than likely intended to be a storage area for a wine cellar. Each cell contained about four prisoners a piece, all were dead and rotting. It appeared as if the Herrmann-Reid, for some unknown reason, had hurriedly abandoned, leaving everything behind.

"Oh no...oh God, please no..."

Spyro sped across the prison, pausing in front of the cell opposite and farthest from them. A bloody, bruised dragoness laid sprawled across the blood-soaked ground. Despite the numerous injuries, the blood and scabs, and the dismal light, the form was recognizable, "Cynder!"

With lightning speed, Spyro blasted the cell door away with a great Earth Shot and slid in, kneeling beside his mate. "Cynder! Cynder speak to me! Please! Oh God, please speak to me Cynder! I love you!" He gingerly touched her fragile body, it was stiff and cold. "Cynder!"  
>Quickly, he began administering CPR, "Cynder! Come back Cynder! Please!"<p>

Suddenly, she began coughing, choking as she spit up congealed blood. She groaned and writhed in agony.

"Cynder! Thank God! Oh thank you God!"

Her hacking subsided, and she opened her sad, swollen eyes to him. A weak smile touched her lips, "Y...you came back..." Her voice was a hoarse whisper, the voice of the dead.

"Of course I did...why wouldn't I?"

"Don't...don't leave me..."

"I won't Cynder, never again."

Crying, they embraced, and Spyro kissed her, ignoring the pungent aroma of stale sweat, blood, and decomposition that surrounded her.

* * * * *

A thick mist clung to the cool, afternoon air as the Master Chief finished setting up the machine-gun. They heard the sound of footsteps on the cobblestone street, and the three soldiers immediately, and silently, manned their battle-stations.

"Hold your fire!" Fox's voice commanded, and he and Spyro emerged from the fog, supporting a weak and battered, but alive, Cynder.

The Commander, stunned, exclaimed, "Holy ****! You're alive."

The trio entered the makeshift camp, collapsing on the ground. Cynder's breath was shallow, liquid, and the Chief, Reznov, and Commander immediately began administering aide to her wounds, as Spyro began to clean the blood from his mate's scales.


	7. Chapter VI: Darkness Falls

**Mission I - Part VI: Darkness Falls**

-_5:15 PM_-

Night approached far too quickly, thrusting the world into pure darkness. The Master Chief, sounding irritated, stated, "We've been here for twelve hours, and all we've achieved is finding Cynder."

"True," Fox replied, his face illuminated in a ghostly light radiating from the campfire, "But I'm glad Cynder is okay. I've never seen Spyro happier."

Fox and the others looked over at the two dragons, isolated by themselves, talking as Spyro continued licking Cynder's scales clean, paying special attention to her lower belly. Cynder, happy to be reunited with her beloved, giggled and her face flushed a reddish color as she seemed to be enjoying whatever Spyro was doing. "Spyro," the Chief began, "You're here to clean her, not pleasure her."

Cynder grabbed Spyro's horn, lifted his head to hers, and kissed him deeply. Even after she let go of him, they continued for a little while before Spyro laid down on his side, resting. Cynder wormed her way into his outstretched paws, pressing herself against him, as their combined body heat warmed them against the roaring, winter wind.

Fox walked over to them, breaking them apart from their cuddling embrace, and inventoried Cynder's injuries. She had several broken bones in her legs, deep lacerations down her body, and several busted ribs as well as a punctured lung. Her skull was busted open, and she appeared to have a severe concussion that the Herrmann-Reid had half-assed cared for. Fox set her broken limbs in place, splinted them with charred boards and string, stitched her lacerations, and dosed her with morphine.

High on opiates, Cynder was a little delirious, loud-mouthed, and acted as if she was drunk. Spyro patiently tolerated her constant, flirtatious behavior with the others, and he looked at her with a combination of pity, joy, and love. As the night grew long, the exhausted soldiers retired for the night and Spyro and Cynder were left alone.

Cynder, coming down from her high and feverish, complained about the pain returning. Spyro offered to give her another dose of morphine, but she weakly shook her head, requesting ibuprofen instead. "What about the pain?" Spyro asked, deeply concerned for his mate, "Morphine is much more powerful."

"I don't want too much power, I want to feel something at least. The drugs numb my body...I feel nothing. The pain is tolerable under ibuprofen."

"Why do you want to feel anything?"

"Spyro, it's been two weeks since we've last seen each other."

"Two weeks too many."

"Exactly," she glanced at the others, sleeping soundly, "Let's overcome that length apart."

"How?"

She kissed him, deeply, passionately, "You know how Spyro."

She led him into a roofless, burned-out building down the street, and, in the waning light of the full moon, they made sweet love together.


	8. Chapter VII: Story Time Part One

**Mission I - Part VII: Story Time ****_Part One_**** - Cynder's Tale**

Spyro opened his amethyst eyes. He looked down and saw Cynder, curled up against him and using his chest as a pillow. He smiled lovingly, stroking her warm head and side. She opened her beautiful emerald-sapphire eyes, glistening at the site of her mate. She smiled and cuddled closer to the purple dragon.

"Good morning Cynder," he said.

"Good morning Spyro," she was about to cry.

Spyro slowly stroked her beautiful body, "I missed you, so much."

"I did, too. Every night...every night I dreamed about you, dreamed that you came back. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Shall we?"

"Yes, if you want."

She rolled onto him, kissing him. In the breaking light, they mated.

* * * * *

They finished, and Cynder, still lying on Spyro's chest, looked into his eyes, lovingly, "You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Spyro."

"As you are me, Cynder."

"I'm glad we found each other."

"So am I."

They kissed one final time as the others approached them. "Are we intruding on something?" The Chief asked.

"No," Cynder replied, smiling down at her mate, "You arrived just in time."

* * * * *

"So tell us," Fox began, stirring the pot of stew over the campfire, "What the hell happened to you, Cynder?"

"Well..." she glanced at her mate by her side, placing her paw on his. She scooted close to him, entangling her tail with his. Resting her head on his shoulder, she began...

...She slowly awoke, her body hurt, she couldn't feel her limbs. The offensive odor of decay permeated the air of the dark room she was in. She glanced around the dark room, and discovered the electrified chain connecting her to a stake in the ground.

"Hello?" She called out, "Help!"

The hum of electricity, and Cynder let out a scream of pain as electricity charged through her body. The power let up and she collapsed. A harsh voice commanded, "Tell us where they went."

"Who?"

"You know who!"

She felt white hot pain burn her flank. Looking down at her side, she looked down and watched as a gloved hand pulled a dagger away from her flesh, and she saw blood drip from the cut. She screamed, but the knife slashed her again.

"Where are they?" The voice commanded again.

"I don't know!" She was sobbing hysterically now.

"Bull****!" Electricity charged through her body again.

"Please! Stop! I beg you!"

"Tell us!"

"I don't know!"

Another slash, and she collapsed. Blood pooled around her.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know."

A longer blast of electricity tore through her body and she screamed.

"Tell us!"

"I don't know!"

She then felt a new pain, as a sledgehammer smashed her foot. She screamed, as loud as she could, pain so intense she passed out.

For days, she went under the continuous torture until her broken body was too weak from blood loss, and her muscles to stiff to move. Still, she suffered, and then...

"Forget it, we're not getting anything," one of the voices said.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Put her out of her misery."

Cynder watched as a man approached, and felt the cold steel of a pistol barrel against her temple.

"Nighty night," he said, and pulled the trigger...

"...The bullet missed, ricocheting off of my scales and grazing the top of my head."

Cynder glanced at her smashed paw.

"I'm sorry Cynder," the Chief said, sincere, much to everyone's surprise.

"It's okay."

Changing the subject, Spyro asked, "So how did you get here?"

"Well," the Chief began, "Funny story..."


	9. Chapter VIII: Story Time Part Two

**Mission I - Part VIII: Story Time ****_Part Two_**** - The Headless Chicken**

-_Aft of the _Forward Unto Dawn-  
>-<em>May 30, 2553<em>-  
>-<em>2:30 PM<em>-

_The High Prophet of Truth, the final of an arrogant, delusional race of aliens that had led a radical religious quest to destroy the universe with their army known as 'The Covenant', had been killed, but the uninformed Covenant still ravaged the universe searching for a way to fire the rings and kill all sentient life. My memory here is a little shady, but, I'll try to remember as much as I can..._

* * * * *

..._"Wake me...when you need me..."_

"JOHN!"

Master Chief's sleeping eyes shot open as the piece of frigate he was in shook violently. He quickly bolted into action, grabbing his battle rifle as he ran to the computer console in the heart of the ship. Cortana stashed away inside the back of his helmet, he peered out and saw hundreds of Banshees and Seraphs, two types of aircraft in the Covenant's fleet, circling the aft and shooting at it.

He fired at the circling and dive-bombing aircraft, watching as the craft disintegrated. "John! Look out!" A kamikaze Banshee charged the open bay of the _Forward Unto Dawn_ shooting inside. Chief gunned down the aircraft as it hit the ramped entrance and exploded. Another one charged at him, and he rolled out of the way as the craft sped into the bay doors. Scraping off the walls in sparks, it turned and charged at the Master Chief, trying to run him down. He activated his armor lock as the craft hit his overshields and was bifurcated.

A Seraph approached, trying to enter and land. Chief hopped onto it, riding it as it tried to fly away. Moving with practiced ease, he punched through the windshield of the craft, reaching in and grabbing the. Unggoy alien inside. Chief tightened his grip as the "Grunt" screeched in his high-pitched voice through the diminishing oxygen inside the craft, "The Demon! The Demon's got me! The-"

Chief couldn't hear its screeches any longer, as the air level inside was completely gone, and without air as a median, the Chief might as well have been deaf. Master Chief pulled the struggling Unggoy out, unsheathed his KA-BAR, and jammed the blade up to the handle into the top of the little creature's skull. He withdrew his blade and slashed the monster's throat before throwing the creature out into open Space.

The Chief sat comfortably in the velvet-upholstered seats, took the joystick, and joined the firefight. He fire into the enemy craft, gunning them down as they exploded, one-by-one. Everything ran smoothly, and the battle was relatively quick, and eventually only one Seraph remained. The Chief shot it down and popped his neck muscles, "Too easy," he said.

Suddenly, Cortana's face appeared before him, obscuring his view outside the computerized visor, "Chief!" She said, "Behind you, there's a-"

She didn't get to finish as a Phantom approached from behind, fired two shots, and the commandeered vessel began to spiral out of control. "Oh sh-" Master Chief began as the Banshee exploded...

* * * * *

..._I awoke in your New York City's Central Park, inside a trash can of all things. Fox here just happened to be strolling by when he found me, and that's where we infiltrated the prison with Spyro and Cynder._


	10. Chapter IX: Story Time Part Three

**Mission I - Part IX: Story Time ****_Part Three_**** - Return**

"So, Reznov," Spyro began, "How did you get here?"

"I don't really know, Spyro."

Spyro and Cynder exchanged puzzled glances, Reznov looked away, seemingly lost in thought as he stared into the fire.

"What do you remember?"

* * * * *

-_Red Square_-  
>-<em>Volgograd, Russia<em>-  
>-<em>September 17, 1992<em>-  
>-<em>3:20 AM<em>-

Reznov emerged from the cab, paying the driver. Upon his exit, he closed his eyes, breathing the all-too familiar air. He was finally home. For years Reznov had been gone from his homeland, and now, he returned to the motherland. Volgograd, once Stalingrad, had changed greatly since that cold day in 1942. Reznov walked across Red Square, searching for one particular place. Around him, Russian families pushed past, paying him no heed. Viktor Reznov didn't mind, he preferred it this way.

A lazy snow drifted from the dark skies, and orange and yellow street lamps illuminated the square. He paused, by the atmosphere, he could tell he was close...and then...he saw it: the fountain...

Reznov walked to the fountain, despite the thin, covering cap of ice, the Russian could hear the water running freely. He could hear the water running over the ground, over the sacred ground where 50 years ago to the day, Reznov had seen his compatriots massacred, and where only two rose from the burial grounds. "Dimitri..." He whispered, his old voice broken, "You deserved to die as a hero..."

Viktor pulled off his glove with his teeth, staring at the knob that saw a finger 50 years earlier. Since he had first planned to leave the States back to Mother Russia, memories of Vorkuta had tormented him. Vorkuta, the Gulag where he stayed for years, ever since Dimitri Petrenko, his brother-in-arms, his friend, had fallen to traitors. "If only you were here Dimitri, Red Square looks beautiful, and Russia has accepted us once more in her embrace."

As he saw on the cool stone of the fountain, Reznov saw the Red Square of September 1942 once more. He saw the massacre, saw Dinitri's emergence from the sea of gore, from the mound of corpses. He saw General Amsel's assassination, he saw as the two heroes of Stalingrad completed the first step in avenging their fallen brothers. "Dimitri...Dimitri..." Reznov repeated his name as an immense pain tore through his breast. He began gasping for breath as the memories adopted a living quality.

Unaware of his heart attack, Reznov swayed back and forth, eyes still closed.

_"Dimitri! You can make it my friend, you always survive...as long as you live, the heart of this army will never die. Together! You and I will return, as heroes, to Mother Russia's welcoming embrace!"_

His breath dwindled, his body slowed... "Dimitri..."

_"He should have died in Berlin."_

With memories of Stalingrad as it once was, Reznov fell forward into the fountain, crashing through the thin ice. The rush of ice cold water engulfing his submerged body remaining unfelt, he opened his eyes. The water was blue in the light of the street lamps, to Reznov, it looked so beautiful. Strangely, the yellow light seemed more intense, radiating a deep warmth that comforted Reznov as he smiled for the first time in many years.

"_Dimitri, I am coming..._"

Hearing the voice of his long lost friend whispering reassuringly in his ear, speaking of the many wonders of Heaven, Reznov closed his eyes, and as he gently touched the bottom of the pool, feeling comfortably numb, he surrendered to the light and the comfortable warmth, and died.

* * * * *

"I awoke on a bench in Central Park, beside a fountain, wondering if what I experienced was a dream. At first, I believed I was still in my home in New York, still known as John Trant, but then I saw the Master Chief and Randall, and I knew I was somewhere else...in a different world. For several days, I mistakenly thought I was in Heaven.

"It wasn't until I learned of your existence, Spyro, Cynder, that I realized where I really was, another universe, much like my own. I enjoy living once again, but I miss Dimitri, and the consolation of death is that we would be reunited once again."

Reznov fell silent as Spyro and Cynder exchanged startled glances.

Breaking the awkward silence, the Chief said, "Now, storytime's over, let's go search for survivals before we burn any more daylight."


	11. Chapter X: Doubts

**Mission I - Part X: Doubts**

-_11:52 AM_-

The sun peaked over the ruins formerly known as Warfang, and Fox began assigning teams. "Okay, let's all split up. It's a big city, and we need to search every nook and cranny, remember our mission. Reznov and I will cover the South District. Chief, you and Commander take the Northern District. Spyro, you and your mate stay here and search the heart of the city and the Upper Reaches. Just remember, this is a mission, we ain't bringin' you two together so you can crawl somewhere and ****. I'm mainly pairing you so you can catch up on missed time, sex is out. If I discover you two shirked your duties to **** each other, I will personally make sure you aren't teamed again."

"Yes sir," Spyro replied.

"Can do, Fox," Cynder replied.

"Good, let's move out, we'll meet back here at dusk."

* * * * *

-_Downtown_-

Spyro and Cynder strolled down the main thoroughfare, sliding in and out of destroyed shops along the way. Cynder seemed troubled, and Spyro noticed this, but knowing his mate, she'd tell him when she could, so he ignored it. Then, as they were walking through a charred bakery, "Spyro?"

"Yes Cynder?"

"There's something...I've been meaning to talk to you about..."

"What's up?"

"I had a lot of time to think while I was trapped in that basement, and...well..."

"What's wrong Cynder?"

"Did we do the right thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mating...did we do the right thing? Or did we move too fast? I don't know."

Spyro frowned, "Doubts?"

Cynder looked away, ashamed, "I don't know."

"I'm sorry..." Spyro said, looking down in sadness.

"Don't be," Cynder replied, half-hugging him and kissing his cheek, "It's just...me...I always doubt things."

Spyro sighed and left.

"Wait! Spyro!" Cynder ran towards him, "Where are you going?"

Spyro paused, without turning around, he said, "I...just want to be left alone for awhile. I'll see you tonight Cynder."

"Wait Spyro! Don't go!"

He continued on.

"I love you!"

He didn't reply. Cynder stopped, watching him fly away. Tears beginning to flow, regretting her mistake, "I'm sorry..." She whispered.


	12. Chapter XI: Spyro's Solution

**Mission I - Part XI: Spyro's Solution**

-_2:30 PM_-

Cynder trudged through the ruins of downtown Warfang, searching for survivors as well as searching for her mate. That was all she could think about, that and the words she had spoken to him. She knew she should have phrased it differently, and now she was worried that her mate was gone. Mates for life...that damned rule. If she were to try and get another mate, after the first attempt, they would know she was already mated, it was hopeless. Even if it wasn't obvious, she still wanted Spyro, and only Spyro, and she regretted the words severely.

"I'm sorry Spyro," she whispered, lowering her head in shame, "Why?"

Infuriated, she punched the sandstone wall of a building, amazed when her fist plowed through it. She pulled her foreleg out of the hole, staring in numb amazement at the blood which ran from her busted knuckle. Stunned, she continued on, desperately attempting to ignore the pain in her throbbing paw.

* * * * *

Spyro trudged sadly along, why did he leave her? Why didn't he just stay with her? All he could think about was the long time they had spent apart, the deep depression that had overcome and overwhelmed him when he saw her surrounded, when they left her behind.

Suddenly, an idea hatched into his mind, he knew how to prove it to her that they were destined to mate. A smile breaking on his face, he turned around, and shot into the skies, searching for Cynder.

* * * * *

Night fell upon the city, and the six reunited by their camp. Neither group had been able to successfully locate survivors, they hardly located any corpses, as if the Herrmann-Reid had captured all survivors and taken the dead away.

"We might have found something that will interest you though," the Commander began, stirring his bowl of soup.

"Lay it on me," Fox replied, sipping from a ladle of tea.

"Ash piles," the Master Chief replied, polishing his battle rifle.

"Ash piles?" Cynder queried, glancing over at her mate, who would not so much as look her way.

"It seems the Herrmann-Reid may have cremated the dead," Reznov replied.

"But why?" Cynder countered.

Reznov shrugged.

"It's hard telling," Fox stated, "Nobody knows how the Herrmann-Reid work. Anyways, any more information?"

Spyro stood, "Yeah, I have something I need to tell you, Cynder specifically."

Cynder glanced up, confused and worried.

"What's up?" the Commander asked.

"We need to make one other trip."

"What is it?" Cynder asked.

"Celestial Caves."

Cynder's mood suddenly darkened, this would not go well, "Explain?" she asked timidly.

"What the hell is Celestial Caves?" the Chief asked.

"Cynder...I know you have doubts considering our destiny, but if there is one person who knows whether or not we were destined for this, it's the Chronicler, it's Ignitus."

-**Mission I Complete**-


	13. Chapter XII: Daybreak

**_Mission II - Operation: FireHeart_**

**Mission Details**:  
>Warfang, Avalar<br>March 18, 9:20 AM  
>Sector A16: Main Gate<br>Primary Objective: Reach Celestial Caves  
>Secondary Objective: Locate Ignitus<br>Personnel Involved: Spyro, Cynder, Flame, Ember, Fox, Reznov, S117, Commander

**Mission II - Part I: Daybreak**

Spyro awoke stretching, only to feel pressure against his chest. Glancing down, he saw Cynder, sleeping soundly, using his chest as a pillow. "Soon," Spyro whispered, gently stroking his mate's head, "You and I will know whether or not we ARE destined for this."

She slowly opened her eyes, looking lovingly into his. Spyro smiled, continuing his gentle caress. "Well..." Cynder said, "Before we know the truth...let's take full advantage shall we?"

"What's your plan?"

"You know very well," she smiled, and he kissed her.

"No I don't, why don't you tell me?"

"What if I showed you instead?"

He smiled mischievously, "That might work."

* * * * *

Half an hour later, Cynder rolled to the side, "I love you, I'm hoping we really are destined for this."

"So do I," Spyro replied, kissing his mate, "So do I."

The others appeared from down the street, the Chief entered the ruins, saying, "I was able to scan the area for any infrared readings, nothing, nada."

"No survivors?" Spyro said.

"No survivors."

"Damn, okay."

"Okay Spyro, I know you want to go to the Celestial Caves, but how in the hell will we get there, you two are the only ones who can fly."

"Well Fox," the dragon began, "My plan is to go back and get Flame and Ember, four dragons for three humans, and one superhuman."

"I'm guessing," the Chief began, "I'm the latter?"

"Of course."

"Right. I'm so ****in' happy right now, I can **** rainbows."

"Come on," Spyro stood and stretched, "The sooner we set out, the better."

They took to the skies and left the smoldering Warfang behind, heading back to where their allies hid in the forested mountains of Avalar.


	14. Chapter XIII: Preparation

**Mission II - Part II: Preparation**

-_10:57 AM_-

The team landed in the heart of their base camp. Ember immediately emerged from a tent and ran to the returning parties, "Spyro!" She cried pouncing and hugging and kissing him. Spyro looked alarmed, and Flame walked up to Cynder.

"Good to see you back and safe," he told her.

Cynder cast an anger-tinted envious glare at Ember, who only stood and said, "What?"

"Leave him alone," Cynder said, annoyed.

"What's wrong?" She then kissed Cynder, much to the latter's dismay and cry of surprise, "Want some attention, too?"

"Eck!" Cynder said, spitting, "Disgusting!"

"You know you liked it."

This brought on an awkward silence to which everyone stared at the pink dragoness.

Blushing, she said, "I'm just kidding!"

"Ahem, moving on!" The Master Chief began, "We're settin' out for Celestial Caves in an hour, Ember, Flame, you two are with us."

Reznov then told them what their plan was and why they were leaving. After he was finished, Fox told them the details of their mission out to Warfang.

"Be careful," the group's medic stated.

"We will Jack," the Commander replied.

"C'mon," the Chief replied, "Let's go."

Mounting the dragons, the group took off into the skies, heading towards the rising sun, heading towards Ignitus.


	15. Chapter XIV: Hell's Peak

**Mission II - Part III: Hell's Peak**

-_6:58 PM_-

Spyro looked around for a place to retire. All day they had flown nonstop over the ocean, and the dragons were exhausted. Finally, Spyro spotted a distant volcano standing tall and alone in the middle of the ocean. The smell of the air was thick with sulfur and brimstone, and Spyro saw a narrow, obsidian shoreline overgrown with volcanic plants.

"Stop here," Spyro ordered.

The dragons landed, Ember and Flame collapsing and falling asleep almost instantly.

"Is this Celestial Caves?" Master Chief asked, "If so, it reeks."

"No," Spyro replied, "We still have a couple of days. This is Hell's Peak, called so because the entire island is a massive, active volcano."

"Like Boyzitbig?" Cynder asked.

"Yes and no," Spyro replied, "Boyzitbig is still inhabited, and still capable of inhabiting animal life, evidenced by the Manweersmalls. This...this is uninhabitable."

"Why?" Reznov asked.

"Hell's Peak erupts about once every two or three weeks. There is not enough time to allow anything but volcanic plants, namely Fireweed, to grow."

"How do we know we're safe?" Fox asked, anxious about being this close to an active volcano, especially one that was known for very frequent eruptions.

"Judging by the sludge along the coastline, the volcano just erupted four or five days ago. The lava has yet to cool off and form an addition to the underwater shelf of obsidian that surrounds the volcano."

Fox, hand pressed to the ground, said, "The ground itself has to be 120, 130 degrees Fahrenheit on average."

"Not surprised," Spyro said, observing the island, "There is a constant flow of magma running beneath the volcanic glass shores, cooling and expanding the island."

"So," Cynder said, brushing chunks of obsidian around with her right forepaw, "Hell's Peak is literally growing?"

"Aye," her mate answered, "The island grows about a foot every year."

"Damn," Cynder replied in awe.

"Yeah."

"So," Fox asked quizzically, "If the islands gains one foot in size every year, how long until it envelopes the planet?"

Without a single moment of hesitation, the Chief replied, "About 128 billion years."

"What...how in the hell do you know that Chief?"

"Fox, my brain runs over 500 times faster than yours, characteristic to superhumans."

"Wh...what?"

"I'm smart, your dumb as ****."

* * * * *

Spyro sat on the warm ground, his head on his paws, as tired as he was, he couldn't sleep. Cynder approached and sat down beside him, "Can't sleep either?" Spyro asked.

"No," she replied. A few moments of silence lasted between them, Spyro sensed she was tense, and knew she had a question on her mind. Finally, she blurted out, "I'm worried."

"Why?"

"I'm worried that we aren't destined to be mates."

"Even if we aren't, it doesn't have to change anything, we can still be together."

"But, if destiny doesn't have us together, one or both of us could die, we could become infertile, break up...so many problems..."

"Cynder," Spyro replied in an attempt to ease his mate's tension, "Don't worry..." He stroked her side, paying special attention to the area between the back of her upper leg joint and the side of her tail, a sensitive spot that she was ticklish in. Her tail lightly swatted his paw. "Everything will be fine. Just try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled.

Spyro closed his eyes, and Cynder curled against him, and they fell asleep.


	16. Chapter XV: Late Night Visitor

**Mission II - Part IV: Late Night Visitor**

-_12:54 AM_-

Spyro awoke abruptly, breathing heavily. For a few moments, he tried to figure out what caused his rude awakening, then realized he heard a strange voice. A chill enveloped him, and even the warmth of Cynder belly encircling him, what had made the outer shell surrounding the tight ball they had been sleeping in, did little to warm him. He felt himself clinging to Cynder tightly, almost as if he was afraid he would lose her.

Something was pulling him away...someone was pulling him away from his mate. "No..." He muttered, "Stop!"

"_Rocen darastrix! Ocuir wer papref batobot ui ekess confn!_" came a deep, layered, and airy voice...a demonic voice...

Spyro suddenly felt compelled to leave the warmth of the side of his mate and into the scraggly, dead trees...trees that had somehow remained standing despite the lava spewing from the mountain. Not wanting to leave, Spyro suddenly realized, he couldn't stop, something was drawing him into the wood. Unable to control his body, Spyro could only stare, horrified, as his limbs developed a mind of their own.

Fear-stricken, Spyro watched as his paw raised, claws outstretched, preparing to slash Cynder's throat, "NO!" He cried. Fighting, he barely managed to keep from murdering his lover...his mate. "Cynder!" He cried, "Go! Awake the others!"

Cynder, slowly opening her eyes and looking lovingly upon her mate, suddenly jumped back, letting loose a scream of terror. "Spyro!" She cried, "Look out!"

Behind the purple dragon, a skeletal, seven-foot-tall figure stood tall. His liquefied skin, formerly human, now dripped off his bones like water from a pipe. One eyeball, rotting, hanged from the optic nerve against what used to be its cheek. It's stringy hair was matted with dirt, blood, and earth, and an earthworm crawled out of its scavenger-ravaged nose, squirming into its open mouth. It held one bloody, skinned arm up, visible muscle and tendon bulging against the bone as it prepared to swipe its unnaturally long fingernails against Spyro.

The figure faded into the air, reappearing behind Cynder and slashing her. Screaming, the black dragon was thrown against one of the trees, shoulder impaled by a tree branch. The figure, perfumed with the nauseating odor of decomposition and rot, grabbed Spyro and dragged the purple dragon into the woods. "_HELP!_" the purple dragon cried, "Please! Someone help!"


	17. Chapter XVI: Spyro's Revelation

**Mission II - Part V: Spyro's Revelation**

-_1:22 AM_-

Spyro was dragged by the unseen demon, dragged deeper into the forest, dragged somewhere unknown. _What the hell is going on?_ he thought. He cried out briefly as the unseen demon's invisible claws grabbed the chain around his neck and pulled. As the two, welded rings was pressed against his neck, Spyro had another thought pierce his mind, _Cynder..._.

Having forgot the rings, he then wondered how it was that Cynder had never noticed them, never seen them, never felt them, even when they were pressed together in a mating embrace as they made love together. _Did she see them...just not ask?_ he thought, reaching with his claw and clutching the rings tightly. It was like a jolt of electricity that shot through his body, and he could feel her...feel Cynder's presence...she was in pain, and Spyro could not control a brief wail. Was she okay? He could sense she was physically in pain...but why? What had happened to her?

Spyro struggled against the demon, trying to break free of that eerily human, corpse-like grasp. Suddenly, Spyro was twisted around, hard, and was thrown against the lip of the volcano. He began to gasp in fear and struggled to hold back the urge to vomit as the stench of sulfur enveloped him. The corpse-like spirit behind him was using its impossible strength to pin the dragon against the stony lip of the crater, and Spyro felt sharp, hot rocks stabbing his belly and neck.

Staring into the volcano, the glowing magma seemed to roll and sway, like an ocean at storm, and from the lava came the moans and cries of spirits, as faces bubbled to the surface before popping and exploding.

_It really is a pit to Hell..._ he thought in shock and fear.

_Ocuir, darastrix, ocuir svabol dout papref jilgic!_ it thought at him telepathically in an eerie, corpse-like rasp.

Suddenly, something snapped, and the dragon instantly understood what was being said, "What will my future hold?" he asked.

_You shall soon see..._

"What will I do?"

_Look! Look into the heat! Watch the future unfold!_

He did as he was asked, and even if he didn't want to, he had no control over his body anymore. It was as if the demon was intruding his body, pulling strings, making him a marionette and forcing him to stare into the damned fires of Hell's Peak.

What he saw alarmed and disturbed him more than anything ever seen before. A rotting, corpse-like beast, what could obviously be seen as a long-dead Gaul, now stood in what Fox had described as Washington DC. Gaul led an army of undead apes in a raid onto the city, opposing forces were little resistance to the massive overpowering armies of the former ape-king. In an instance, armed soldiers clutched their chests as they exploded into a pool of red soup. The streets of DC flowed with a river of blood, and the armies kept advancing. Within minutes, DC had fallen, and was stained red with the blood. Dragonriders, led by what appeared to be the Commander, rushed down to the outskirts of the city, spewing fire and creating a wall of dragonfire that divided the United States' east and west.

Then Cynder appeared, and Spyro gasped. Cynder was scarred, beated, bruise, she was burned, and was being carried to a bladed door frame...a guillotine. _No!_ Spyro cried, _Cynder!_

In an instant, Spyro was forced out of the frightening visions emitted from the lava of the volcano. The pinning spirit was gone, and the dragon had full control over his body again. Something hot burned into his throat, and he looked to see the twin rings, welded into the symbol of Infinity, of Continuous, glowing white hot.

_I need to warn the others..._ he thought, and quickly jumped into the air, gliding towards the camp at the edge of the dead forest.


	18. Chapter XVII: Return to Camp

**Mission II - Part VI: Return to Camp**

-_1:58 AM_-

"Guys!" Spyro yelled, stumbling over roots as he sped into the camp, "Guys! We need to get the hell outta here and back to the real world!"

Then...he saw Cynder...

"Cynder...oh no..."

The dragon quickly ran to his mate's side. The black dragoness was hanging from a branch, blood-soaked, and protruding from her bloody shoulder. As quickly as he could, Spyro arose into the air and gingerly helped Cynder down. She was awake...but seemed delirious, feverish, and the removal of the blocking limb cause blood to squirt like a fountain from her shoulder. She had already lost a lot of blood, and Spyro feared anymore would kill her. Carefully, he inserted two claws into her arm, and he pinched the spewing artery shut. Trying to summon his ice ability, he attempted to heal her. Suddenly, he began to glow blue, and Cynder's severed artery immediately closed, as the alarming fountain of blood ceased.

As he withdrew his claws, he healed the rest of the damaged tissue, and upon complete withdrawal, most of her wounds were healed. Sneaking into Fox's medical bag, Spyro wrapped gauze around her shoulder, and pulled her close to him. Immediately, Cynder came to and hugged her mate tightly, crying, "Thank you Spyro...thank you..."

"You're welcome, Cynder."

"I love you..."

"I love you, too..."


	19. Chapter XVIII: A Grave Warning

**Mission II - Part VII: A Grave Warning**

-_3:55 AM_-

"What the hell is going on?" Fox asked, the others tailing him. Spyro and Cynder still hugging each other as they cried silently, looked up and broke apart, not wanting humans to get the wrong idea.

"Something is gonna happen...something bad," Spyro said, regaining and maintaining self-control.

Even Cynder was alarmed, and Fox was startled, first thinking that Spyro was breaking off his and Cynder's bond. Judging by her reaction, apparently the same thought had crossed the pregnant female's mind as well.

"Well..." The Commander began, "Don't keep us in suspense! What's gonna happen?"

Spyro then told them everything, from the demon that had possessed him, threatening to murder Cynder as she slept (the black dragoness had cats a fearful glance at her mate, one that broke his heart as he realized that not she would never be completely comfortable or relaxed around him.) All the way to the grisly images the purple dragon had witnessed in the volcanic crater, and to his return to camp where he rescued Cynder and healed her.

"I...I don't know what to think," Reznov replied.

"For one, perhaps it would be best if we got off this damn island ASAP," the Chief replied.

"I agree, sir," Reznov agreed.

"Same," Fox added.

"Let's wake Ember and Flame and then get the hell off of this island," the Commander replied.

Without a sound, everyone began breaking down the camp as the Commander left to awaken the others. As they worked to break down the camp, Cynder kept glancing nervous glances at her mate, and as Spyro moved to talk to her, she would either sneak off, or use the "somebody is calling me" excuse to leave. Spyro could never remember feeling so bad, and he wanted to talk to her. He silently kicked himself for telling her about her near miss with death. Something warmed his torso, and he felt the fused rings, comfortably warm.

He would make things up to her...he wouldn't stop until he did.


	20. Chapter XIX: Celestial Caves Part One

**Mission II - Part VIII: Celestial Caves ****__Part One__**

-_4:32 PM_-

As the sun began to descend in the west, casting a brilliant, beautiful, angelic glow over the seemingly endless sea, the island came into view. From outside, the Celestial Caves looked almost like a massive castle made entirely of ice and snow. Yet the air around the Celestial Caves wasn't cold, it was warm, very warm, and seeming to grow ever warmer as the dragons grew closer. They landed on the icy ledge just outside of the caves, and Spyro could not help but stare in awe at the towering spires of ice. Cynder smiled and chuckled, "Jesus...it's been years."

"You've been here before?" Spyro asked his mate.

"Aye...a long time ago."

"When?"

"Shortly before I was corrupted, Gaul forced the previous Chronicler to tell him how he was supposed to corrupt me and resurrect the Dark Master."

"And he listened?"

"Aye...he fought, but eventually, Gaul's forces overwhelmed the Chronicler, and wrestled him into submission."

"But the Chronicler isn't mortal!"

"Yes he is."

"What?"

Cynder seemed sad, "The Chronicler is mortal, if exposed to the element opposite of him."

"So..."

"So the previous Chronicler is weak to fire."

"And Ignitus..."

"Is weak to ice," Fox replied.

"Ignitus..."

Spyro felt odd knowing that he was soon to meet his friend again, but, ignoring the feelings, he entered the labyrintine caves, the others in tail.


	21. Chapter XX: Celestial Caves Part Two

**Mission II – Part IX: Celestial Caves _Part Two_**

-_6:22 PM_-

Spyro walked through the caves slowly, much slower than normal. The others behind him followed his pace, too stunned at the sheer beauty of the caves to notice their slow advance. Spyro, however, was not gaping at the scenery, like the others, instead, he was lost in memories. Back from his training with the Chronicler, to his actual meeting with him, with some emotions of Ignitus...the father he had never had. "Ignitus..." he mumbled below his breath, "I'm back..."

_Welcome home..._ came a voice on the wind blowing through the gaping holes in the musical cavern. Spyro glanced around, wondering if anyone heard the voice, no one else seemed to have noticed. As the purple dragon recognized his friend's voice, he realized that it sounded familiar, not of Ignitus, but of someone else...that someone else was...

"Such a beautiful example of nature's architecture," Reznov spoke, his voice seemingly dreamy and longing. "Never before have I seen such natural beauty."

"It is beautiful," Cynder said, "Just like I remember it."

Spyro, broken from his trance by Reznov's awestruck voice, paused as the others, oblivious to him and lost in the beauty of the Celestial Caves, moved ahead of him. Cynder was lagging behind the group, hesitant, ashamed. When she looked up at her mate, Spyro noticed how her beautiful emerald-sapphire eyes shined, she had been crying.

"What's wrong Cynder?" he asked, his voice layered with concern and worry, but also of a deep, unspeakable love that only they knew.

"Nothing Spyro," she said in a tone he hadn't heard since that dark night in the Dragon Temple, when she left, and they were attacked by Gaul's minions...and before his first experience with the mystical Chronicler of old.

"You're lying," he said.

"It doesn't matter."

"To hell it does. You are my mate, the love of my life, I think I deserve to know what is bothering you...I can help."

"No you can't Spyro, not this time."

"Are you afraid?"

"What?"

"Are you afraid?"

"Of what?"

"Of what Ignitus might do to you as the Chronicler?"

Silence overcame them, and she looked away, lost in memories...and guilt.

He knew her well, and despite her attempts to hide her guilt, Spyro could easily see through her charade, "You are," he said.

"I'm not," Cynder said, "It's been a long time since I was last here."

"True...but that's not the only reason."

"Why does this matter to you?"

"I'm worried about you Cynder, forgive me for being concerned," his eyes narrowed.

She tried to hold his gaze, but failed, and hurriedly walked away.

Overcome by guilt, Spyro rushed back to her, she was crying now. Sniffling as she attempted to suppress deep wrenching sobs. "Cynder, I-"

"Don't talk! Just...just don't!"

"Cynder! Hear me out for a sec-"

"No, just...leave me alone."

Spyro, heartbroken, stood in place as she sped off, he felt a deep longing for her, deep in his gut and loins, even though they already mated. Sex would make it better, it always did. "Cynder, please, I'm sorry."

Darkness fell swiftly upon the labyrinthine caves, and they had no choice but to camp for the night. While the others worked for camp, Spyro opted to go gather kindling and fuel for the fire. As he began to trudge deeper into the darkness, he heard Cynder cry out, "Spyro! Wait!"

He stopped and turned abruptly around, Cynder ran up to him, and though her beautiful eyes were still tear-stained, the love she felt for him was as bright as ever, she didn't want to lose him again, and she would refuse for him to leave without her. Spyro didn't care, he figured they could talk over their shaky relationship while they searched. Spyro did not want to lose his mate, he loved her too much, and by the shine in her eyes as she stopped by his side, he realized that she felt much the same.

"Spyro, about earlier...I'm sorry. I...I don't know what came over me it's just that I-"

Spyro interrupted her by kissing her, deeply, passionately. As he pulled away from her, hesitantly withdrawing his tongue from with her sweet mouth, he said, "Don't worry about any of it, I understand."

Cynder, eyes tearing again, said, "I don't want to lose you, Spyro..."

"Nor I you, Cynder."

"What if...what if Ignitus...doesn't think we are meant for each other? What if we aren't destined?"

"I don't care Cynder, you are the only girl I've ever loved, I would never lose you...the Ancestors as my witness, I will die for you."

This seemed to strike a sweet spot in Cynder, and she hugged him, entwining her neck with his as she brought their mouths together to kiss again, "I love you, Spyro."

"I love you, too, Cynder, and I won't let _anything_ change that."

"Promise?"

"I do."

As they gathered supplies for the campfire, they continued talking, discussing both random topics as well as their own relationship, and when they returned to camp, with more than enough supplies for the fire, the camp had been completely established, and their party sat around the fire, chatting over stories of their individual worlds, telling of things long past, telling of dreams, nightmares, stories, and experiences. Spyro and Cynder arrive unnoticed, and they sat down together by themselves a little ways from the camp. As they realized their imminent meeting where there destiny would be told to them, they allowed passion to overtake them, and they made love together, enjoying each others simultaneous climaxes as if it were the last they would experience together.


	22. Chapter XXI: Celestial Caves Part Three

**Mission II – Part X: Celestial Caves _Part Three_**

Spyro awoke to the bright, beautiful light of the noonday sun shining into the caves through the icy blue crystal that lined the ceiling. Now in the peak of day, the caves were still chilly, but had warmed greatly. As Spyro rose to stand, he felt a heavy pressure on his chest, and looking down, he smiled as he saw his sleeping, smiling mate, her warm body entangled with his.

As he normally did when he awoke with her, he slowly stroked her side, patting her gently as her body tensed beneath his gentle touch. Slowly, she opened her shining, beautiful eyes, and looked deeply into his. "Today..." she said to him.

"Today..." he agreed, nodding, "Today...we find out our destiny."

"Let's hope we are together."

"We can only hope."

He kissed her as they untangled themselves and stood, stretching. Around them, the rest of the camp rose to tackled the new day.

Spyro stoked the fires as Reznov and the Commander went out to hunt. Ember and Flame, kissing each other, left the camp alone together, and by the way they seemed overly affectionate, Spyro expected what they were off to do, and he couldn't help but to smile to himself at the thought of the two. The Chief and Fox immediately set to work on tearing down camp, and Cynder left to relieve herself, and once the fires were burning bright and hot, Spyro aided them, unable to believe that he would finally see his long-time friend after so long.

Camp torn down, breakfast eaten, the group continued deeper into the caves, drawing ever closer to the inner chamber where the Chronicler lived in isolation.

Finally, they arrived, and Spyro stopped just into the crossroads. Around him, he saw the four elemental portals, and he was instantly lost in memories. As he stood in place, remembering the training he underwent here, Cynder slowly walked up to him, and gently nuzzled his head with her muzzle. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said, glancing at her and smiling sadly, "C'mon, we're almost there."

Spyro led his cautious group into the heart of the room, where a portal, encircled by candles, glowed dimly. As Spyro looked at his reflection in the portal, as he stared at his haggard, battle-scarred face, he remembered the battle he had in that strange world...the elemental dragon that resembled so much like Cynder as she was when they fought. Then, at the thought of Cynder, his thoughts changes to that day in NYC, where they made love as the building, burning, came down around them. At the thought, he reminded himself that he would do everything he could to stay with her, and that he wouldn't let anything get in his way.

Hesitantly, he stepped into the portal, the others following suit, and in a flash of brilliant ice-blue light, they were gone, sent through the vortex of time and space, as they drew closer to their destination.

In another flash of light, Spyro opened his eyes, glancing around him as he saw the Chronicler's chamber. Across the room, shelving one of the Books of Life, was Ignitus, as white as snow.

"Ignitus..." Spyro said, swallowing as tears came to his eyes.

Alarmed, the old dragon turned around to stare at the intruders. Ignitus' jaw dropped as he saw who had visited him, "Spyro..." he began. "Y...you are alive!"

"Ignitus!" Spyro ran to the old dragon and embraced him, "You're okay! I thought you were dead! I...I...the Burned Lands..."

"What are you doing here, young Dragon?"

"So," came the indisputable voice of the Master Chief, "This is your Chronicler?"

"I guess I should have expected another dragon," Reznov said.

"Aye, I am the Chronicler Ignitus, and you are all strangers to this land."

"Hey Vik," the Commander interrupted, nudging Reznov's arm, "He sounds just like you!"

"I beg to differ," Reznov replied.

"As do I," the Chronicler added, "Now Spyro...what brings you here?"

Spyro nodded as Cynder stepped forward and gently nuzzled her mate, "Me...Spyro..." she said, unable to speak the truth to him.

"Ignitus," Spyro asked, "Are we destined to mate...Cynder and I?"

The old dragon seemed surprised, yet he also glanced down in understanding, "Follow me," he said, walking back over to the bookshelf.

Spyro and Cynder exchanged worried glances before following the old dragon.


	23. Chapter XXII: Celestial Caves Part Four

**Mission II – Part XI: Celestial Caves _Part Four_**

"I assume," Ignitus began, "That you two have already mated."

"How can you tell?" Spyro replied bitterly.

"By the way you two look at each other..." he shook his head slowly, "It is not the way you saw each other the last time I saw you two together. Also, your auras are the same, whereas the last time I saw you two, they were obviously different. The fact that you two share auras, a combination of your individual ones, tell me that you have indeed engaged in mating."

Spyro and Cynder lowered their heads in guilt.

"Judging also by Cynder's girth, I assume that you have succeeded in impregnating her?"

Spyro seemed alarmed by the question, whereas Cynder seemed irritated by referring to her growing belly as 'girth'.

"Aye," Cynder replied, "I'm pregnant."

"How far along?"

"About a month..."

"You ask if you two are destined to mate," here Ignitus paused by the bookshelf, withdrawing a dusty book and sitting down, "Perhaps...this will tell you your answer."

As the others finally moved forward and gathered around the old dragon, Ignitus began reading from the book, and it didn't take long to realize that Ignitus was telling him the story...the entire story...of Malefor.

After the story, everyone could do little but stare in stunned surprise as Ignitus gingerly closed the book, sending up a cloud of dust.

"Malefor...was mated to a black dragon?" Spyro asked in surprise.

"Almost..." Ignitus replied sadly, "But Gaul intervened."

"And you...you knew Malefor?"

"He was a close friend of mine."

"And you're Spyro's _father_?" Cynder asked in surprise.

"That I am," Ignitus replied sadly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Spyro asked, anger seeping forward.

"It was best, Spyro, that you didn't know, but your question is answered."

Cynder reached forward with her front paw, and Spyro gripped it tightly, Ignitus noticed this gesture and couldn't help but to feel happy for them.

Suddenly, Spyro began to feel ill, and Cynder was instantly concerned for her mate. As Spyro began to sway, dizzy, Cynder barely caught him as he collapsed, and in a flash of light, the entire group passed out.


	24. Chapter XXIII: The New World

**Mission II - Part XII: The New World**

Spyro awoke, groaning as his limbs burned. He was laying in an uncomfortable position, and his limbs were sore. Standing, he glanced around his surroundings, confused, trying to pinpoint where he had been teleported this time. "Where are we?" Cynder asked from behind the dragon, groaning sleepily.

"I...I don't know..." the purple dragon's voice seemed tinted with panic, something did not feel right about this new world, even though it seemed peaceful.

As he helped the others up, Ignitus, who had traveled with them, asked, "What is going on? Where are we?"

They were on the outskirts of a small, walled village. The skies were the light blue of early morning, and the world was eerily peaceful. Surrounding the tiny village was a vast forest that seemed to stretch on forever. Curious, but also alert for any sign of trouble, the group began to explore the empty, silent village. As they reached the center of the town, evidenced by a massive statue of a reindeer, Spyro could distantly see what appeared to be a massive, stone wall. Curious about the distant barrier, he continued forward, leading his hesitant group. An hour later, they stood at the base of the fifty-foot tall stone wall.

Behind them, Spyro could hear the Commander let out a laugh as he said, "Who woulda thought someone would build a border wall between America and Canada."

"What are you rambling on about?" Cynder asked.

"Hey!" the Commander exclaimed, feigning hurt feelings, "That was not very nice."

Annoyed, Cynder sighed and asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Better...but I still don't like your tone."

"Oh come on!" Ignitus interrupted, "Out with it!"

"Fine! Fine...Jesus...so temperamental everyone is. We are in Canada, just beyond the...apparent American/Canadian border."

"Apparent?" Spyro asked.

"Apparent as in I never knew there was a bordering wall."

"How do you know it's Canada then?"

"Well...I'm no genius..." the Commander said, then, pointing to a destroyed highway sign, he said, "But I think Quebec is in Canada...I could be wrong though."

"Canada..." Master Chief muttered, "Hmph, didn't realize it was this cold."

"Is the Chief complaining? Holy shit somebody call the paparazzi," the Commander remarked, "Chief hates cold."

"Nope, Cold doesn't affect me," the Chief replied smoothly.

"Uh huh...damage done, Iron Man."

The Chief sent the Commander one of his infamous glares.

"Well..." Fox said, "At least the Covvies aren't here."

"That's debatable."

"Don't see how the Covenant could possibly be here."

"A stone wall was built between America and Canada in 2255."

"...Still doesn't mean anything."

"If we are in my universe, then we don't have to worry about the Covenant until the 2500s, it's all good...for now."

"What do we do?" Reznov asked.

"Easy," the Commander replied, "Scale the wall."

"What about the border patrol?"

"Pfft, the border patrol is for the American/Mexican border, y'know, the one where the cartels sneak in."

"There could be Canadian cartels," Spyro stated nonchalantly, and the others broke out in laughter at the purple dragon's joke.

However, Chief saw through the humor and said, "Yeah, I doubt it."

"Anyways," Spyro said, "I'm not wanting to climb this thing right now, personally, I just want to rest today."

"Why?" the Chief asked, "It's early, we can gain some mileage by dusk."

"Yeah, but I've been doing nothing but walking-flying-walking since we left Warfang, my stamina is about maxed. We can rest today in this quaint little village and set out first thing tomorrow."

"Are you wanting rest? Or are you just looking for an excuse to spend the day banging Cynder?" the Chief added.

"I'm being serious."

"Sure you are, Glen," the Commander replied, then, under his breath, he muttered, "Giggity."

Fox and Chief broke out in laughter.

"What?" Spyro asked, confused.

"It's a Family Guy reference," Fox said, "The series' residential sex-addict was Glen Quagmire. Y'know, '_giggitygiggitygiggitygoo!_'."

The Commander laughed as Fox completed his near-perfect attempt at Quagmire's infamous line. "Perfect! Perfect attempt! Finally, someone who can _finally_ pull of a good Quagmire quote."

Spyro shook his head, obviously confused, Cynder just let out a sigh. "All...fucking buzzkill," Fox replied.

"He ain't a buzzkill," the Commander corrected, "He's a fucking killjoy."

"Same damn thing."

"Whatever."

As dawn broke, the group checked themselves into the local inn, bringing on glances of confusion from the locals at the sight of the unusual characters. Once they were settled, the group, minus the dragons, set out to restock on supplies. The dragons remained in the inn.

"Flame and Ember invited us to join them for a walk if you want," Cynder called into the room.

Spyro, in the shower and fully enjoying the running hot water against his scales, called, "Maybe later."

"What are you doing in there?" Cynder asked, entering the bathroom.

Spyro, upon hearing Cynder's entry, abruptly glanced at his paw and said, "Nothing..."

"If your...exercising...at least allow me to spot if I can't help."

Though he couldn't see her, Spyro could sense the smile on her face. Perhaps they _would_ spend the day enjoying each others...company..."If you want," Spyro replied.

Cynder immediately climbed into the shower, shoving Spyro back so she could enjoy the running water as well. "Damn," she said, "Nothing like Warfang."

"Hell no!" Spyro laughed, "I think I like the humans' world. Also, hot water intensifies fun time."

"Except for the murderous military."

"Meh, stay under the radar, and we won't have to worry about them."

"Yeah...I guess," Cynder, sending a mischievous smile at Spyro, then said, "I'm hungry."

"Feeding time? Already? It's still early," Spyro struggled to maintain a straight voice.

"I haven't eaten for a couple of days."

"Well...I guess I can...scrounge something up."

"What's wrong? Did you waste some?"

"Yes, I didn't know you were hungry."

"You must consult me first on these instances, sometimes I am, sometimes I'm not."

"Well, I will next time."

"Did you save some for me?"

"Maybe you could get something...if you tried. But, you gotta work for it."

"Fine with me, anything for a free meal."

As they began their foreplay, Spyro suddenly interrupted her and said, "Cynder, I have something for you."

Glancing hungrily at the object of her affection, unaware of the pause, she said, "Oh yes you do."

He grabbed her horn and gently lifted her head, "Not that...well...yes that...but something else as well."

Confused and also excited, Cynder cocked her head to the side and said, "Oh really? What?"

"Close your eyes."

"Ooh! A surprise!"

"Now, don't open them."

"I won't."

Spyro, fingering the necklace one last time, removed it and clasped it around Cynder's neck. "Okay," he said, "Open."

She did, and she curiously fingered the new object around her neck. Upon coming across the welded rings, she sent him a genuine glance of shock and surprise, and abruptly climbed out of the shower, peering at herself in the mirror. Upon seeing the gift Spyro had given her, tears welled up in her eyes, and she quickly ran back into the shower, knocking Spyro to the ground as she hugged him tightly, covering him in kisses and crying against his chest. "Thank you!" she whispered, "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you! I love you! I love you!"

"I love you, too, Cynder."

She looked up at her mate, her eyes shining with tears and joy, and as she pressed tighter against him, ignoring the object pressing painfully into her side, she said, "It's beautiful."

"Just like you," he said, smiling, and she kissed him again.

After several minutes, she removed her tongue from his mouth and pulled away. Gaining some self-control, she wiped her eyes as she seductively managed, "Ah hell, now you deserve some dessert for that."

Spyro raised an armored eyebrow, "Do I?"

"Oh yes, yes you do. Name your price kind sir."

"Hmm..."

"I will pay anything."

"I'm thinking..."

"Anything you want..."

Spyro smiled slyly and said, "How about a little...reverse fun?"

Smiling widely, she said, "I can afford that."

"Good."

As they enjoyed each others company, their passionate cries as they reached their simultaneous climaxes were drowned out by the running water.


	25. Chapter XXIV: Across the Border

**Mission II - Part XIII: Across the Border**

Spyro and Cynder awoke, still in the bathtub. The shower was still running, the water now long-since ran cold. Judging by their positions, and how their heads rested on each other's rear legs, it wasn't hard to remember what exactly happened, and they looked up from their positions, smiling mischievously at each other. As they sat up, hugging each other by entwining their necks, they stepped outside, and walked to the window. The sun was high in the sky, so they couldn't have been out for any longer than an hour or two, and they both breathed a sigh of relief as they saw that neither of the humans, the Chief, or Flame and Ember had returned.

"That was fun," Cynder said, smiling at her mate as she set to work on figuring out how to work the stove.

"I agree, a little reverse is always fun."

"Fun thing to call it."

"If I were to call it by it's real term, I'd be censored."

"As if our actions haven't already resulted in us being censored?"

After some consideration, Spyro said, "Good point, we're in the clear for now."

"Pfft," Cynder replied playfully, "It's only a matter of time before we're reported."

"Yeah, we're a ticking time bomb."

The others entered the hotel suite, and were met by a happy and seemingly well-rested Spyro and Cynder, sitting together on the love seat as they browsed through the channels on the television. "Jesus," Spyro began, "I'm loving this world more and more."

"Yeah, it's fun," Fox replied, collapsing on the couch.

"Whoa!" Flame suddenly exclaimed, "Did you see that?"

"See what?" Spyro asked.

"Spyro, go back to that news channel," Ember interrupted.

He did, and was alarmed as he saw a video replay of a burning Washington DC, and a dark, shadowy figure standing tall, observing the chaos from the balcony of the White House. The figure was almost human, but not exactly. The newswoman was speaking quickly, as if frightened by what she was viewing, "The city of Washington DC is still under siege, and the _Caeda_ are struggling to hold the town. As the Rebellioncounteroffensive continues, we are witnessing estimated fatalities in record numbers, as the Second Civil War seems to have taken a turn for the worse. Here now to speak is a representative from the _Caeda_, Lieutenant Colonel James Walker."

"We must not stand for this chaos," Walker said, "We've come too far in acquiring the city to allow it to fall into enemy hands."

"The _Caeda_ are here, too?" the Commander said, his jaw dropping as he watched the representative speak.

"Apparently so..." Cynder replied, "Perhaps if we can make it to their capital, we can figure out a way back home?"

"Maybe..." the Commander replied, "Question is, I don't know where our capital city is!"

"Listen," Flame interrupted, "They might tell us."

"This is Marianne Madison, live, from New Alexandria, Montana," the newswoman said, and Spyro shut off the television.

"There's our answer," the purple dragon said, "Now, how do we get there?"

"Hm..." the Commander began, "Maybe I can ask around for a map, perhaps we can see the topmost states. Montana shares it's northern border with Canada, so perhaps we can find out how far we are from the border."

"I have a better idea," Ember replied.

"What?" the others said in unison.

"Why don't we scale the wall, then find a map of the States? Wouldn't it make things so much easier?"

Silence, then Spyro said, "I like that idea."

"So when do we leave?" the Chief asked, "Since Spyro and Cynder want the day off."

"I wouldn't mind resting either," Reznov replied, "I'm not as fit as I used to be."

"Simple then, I would think," Ignitus replied, "Let us rest today, then we can depart tomorrow morning at dawn."

"That'll work," Cynder replied.

"Oh good," the Chief remarked, "Now you guys can sex yourselves out."

Spyro glared at him.

"Got a problem purple boy? If so, I'll be more than willing to take care of it."

"That...that's okay."

"Alright then. You have fun with your mate, but we leave first thing tomorrow."

-_That Night..._-

Spyro stood on the balcony just outside of the room he shared with his mate, looking out over the village and past towards where the massive stone wall stood, dividing the United States and Canada. As he stood there, he heard the sliding door behind him open, and a soft voice said, "Spyro?"

Without looking back, Spyro replied, "Hi, Cynder."

She appeared behind him, looking beautiful in the light of the setting sun, and she rested her head against his shoulder. "Hi, Lover."

She smiled and giggled softly, Spyro smiled at the sound of her voice. "You sound happy," the purple dragon replied.

"Of course, I'm still so happy that we are destined for each other."

"So am I..."

"But..." Cynder said, knowing there was more to what Spyro wanted to say.

"_But_...I also can't believe that we were never told that purple dragons are always mated to black dragons. I thought they would at least tell us that."

"If the Guardians _did_ know, they probably withheld that information from us for the same reason why Ignitus withheld the truth of his relation to you."

"I still don't understand why...I mean...ever since I met you in Concurrent Skies, even though you were my enemy...I still felt something towards you I had never felt before...I thought it was anger..."

"It was love..." Cynder finished, "I know...I made the same mistake."

"If Malefor really was trying to seduce you..."

"He seriously fucked up when he brought us together."

"I agree."

"Still, I feel bad for him, even though I shouldn't...nobody deserves to lose the one you love, even someone as evil as him."

Cynder looked out towards the sinking sun as it disappeared beneath the wall, and darkness fell upon the world. Dreamily, as if lost in thought, she asked, "Do you remember...when Malefor tried to destroy the world?"

"Yes..."

"Did...did you hear what...what I said?"

Spyro glanced at his mate, looking off, lost in thought.

"I...no...there was just so much going on..."

"I said 'I love you'...I was hoping you heard."

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"I was afraid to tell you then, now, I embrace it."

"Why?"

"Spyro, my life has been full of nothing but rejection and hatred. No one loved me, nobody wanted to take care of me. To Malefor, I was just an expendable minion, I was worthless to him. After you...after you purified me, I finally realized that, and that, coupled with my guilt at all I did to you...I just...I just couldn't handle it. So many conflicting emotions...that's why I left that night in the Dragon Temple. I couldn't tell you why...because...because I..."

"You were scared..."

"Yes, I was scared. I never meant to hurt you or anyone."

"It wasn't your fault Cynder, you know I don't hold you accountable for what Malefor made you do."

"But at the same time, I hated myself for it. I was lost, I had to leave, to get away. At first, I thought I had to leave you, as if you were tethering me to those painful memories...but...after I left...I realized you weren't the reason. Like a dog crawls off to die alone, so was I. I was scared, lost, I didn't know what to do. After...after I saw you again in the Fellmuth Arena, I suddenly realized I was glad to see you, despite the situation, that's when I first started questioning how I really felt for you. I had wondered if you felt something for me, having saved me, and then the way you acted to my leaving the temple. When you went out of your way to save me from Gaul, my beliefs...or hopes...were reinforced, but I was still too scared to ask you about it. During the events following our awakening from that crystal...I...I wanted so badly to tell you how I felt, I wanted to love you...I wanted you to love me...I wanted to be with you, to be yours, I...I wanted you to take me. The only time I managed to gather the strength was in the face of death, and even then, I was worried about the repercussions if we did survive, or you to suddenly reject me, and hearing your disgust at the moment of our deaths. I've loved you for quite some time, I...just didn't know how to tell you. When we survived, and danced together in the Valley of Avalar...do you know...what that dance was?"

"No, I don't."

Here Cynder blushed, seemingly embarrassed, "I told you...it was okay, even after you said it felt odd afterwards."

"What was it?"

"It was a mating dance."

"You knew?"

Cynder nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Once more, I was scared to. I was hoping...that if you did hear me tell you I loved you, and that you were just ignoring it, that you would identify that dance and take action towards it."

"I thought we were playing at first...but then I realized that there was something else to it. I felt...different, I can't explain how so, I just did. It seemed...sensual...and it did peak my arousal...but I just passed it off as simply me being a male."

"No, it was a mating dance, I knew it, I just hoped...and at the same time didn't...that you would recognize that. That is why I slowed towards the end, that is usually where you would mount." 

"I almost did..."

Cynder seemed genuinely surprised by this, "You did?"

"Yes...when you slowed, I suddenly was overwhelmed with the urge to drop and grab you, to seize control...to enter...but at the last minute, I stopped...fearing that I had misinterpreted your intentions."

"But you didn't. I wanted...so bad...to feel you...all of you...to feel you inside me...but at the same time...I didn't...I can't explain."

"But now you can."

Here, Cynder smiled, "I know."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

They kissed, and reentering the hotel room, they collapsed beside each other and fell asleep.

"Okay, purple boy, time's up," came the Chief's indisputable voice from somewhere in the distance.

Lost in a pleasant dream with Cynder, of dancing with his then-future-mate in the peaceful Valley of Avalar, Spyro didn't want to be pulled out, to wake up. When his physical body was forcefully shaken, he had little choice, and he shot up, frightened, dreaming that it was Gaul, standing over him, with Cynder skewered on one of the ape king's ancient swords. Once his senses snapped back into reality, he was relieved to see that it was only the Chief shaking him awake, and that Cynder, curled tightly against him with her head resting on his chest as it had done so many times in the past, was still healthy. Spyro sleepily shoved the Chief's arm away, and Cynder groaned as she awoke, stretching.

"What's going on?" the half-asleep dragoness asked.

"Time to go," the Chief replied.

Glancing around, Spyro could see that the Chief had also crudely awaken all the others in their party, because they all sat around the small, round, glass, kitchen table, groaning sleepily as they rubbed the sleep from their eyes. Only the Master Chief seemed wide awake, and ready to tackle the bright, new day.

Cynder leaned against Spyro, groaning sleepily, and Spyro laid his head on hers.

"Hurry up and get ready," the Chief asked, "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

The air outside was chilly, if not freezing, and as they left the inn, entering the village, all shred of sleep was frozen out of them. They moved quickly, and within an hour, they were at the base of the towering wall.

"Well..." Cynder began, "What now?"

"Now," the Chief replied, "We climb."

Using a rocky bluff adjacent to the wall, they scaled the vertical ascent, jumping across the six foot gap to land on a tiny, one-foot-wide ledge. Walking carefully across the wall, they jumped across another six foot gap, revealing a straight, one hundred foot drop, and landed on a patch of slippery rocks running through a shallow, mountain stream. They followed the stream, leaping off the waterfall, and pulled themselves out of the mountain lake. On the other side, they took a few steps forward when they heard the cocking of machine guns, and a large group of soldiers emerged from the surrounding forest, aiming at the group. "Freeze," one of them commanded, "Or we shoot."

Alarmed, the party exchanged anxious glances, and Flame said, "Oh crap."

-**Mission II Complete**-


	26. Chapter XXV: Prisoner of War Part One

_**Mission III - Operation: Overkill**_

**Mission Details:**

New Alexandria, Montana

_Unknown_, approx. 7:00 AM

Darkwood Prison/Execution Yard

_Primary Objective_:Survive

_Secondary Objective_: Escape

Current Whereabouts: On the Road to New Alexandria

Personnel Involved: Spyro, Cynder, Flame, Ember, Fox, Reznov, S117, Commander

**Mission III - Part I: Prisoners of War **_**Part One**_**: Incarceration**

"Spyro!" came a harsh whisper, "_Spyro_! Fuckin' wake up man!"

The purple dragon started as he felt someone kick him in his rear right leg, hard. As he looked up, he noticed that his limbs were bound by some kind of green, electric handcuffs, ones that eerily reminded him of the magical chain that had bound Cynder and himself shortly after their assisted escape from the crystal in the Catacombs beneath the former Well of Souls. Around him, he was frightened to see that he was in the back of a prisoner transport truck, however, the walls were open, and he could clearly see the outside environment. The muffled rumble of a diesel engine, and the smell of diesel told him that he was obviously being driven somewhere. Around him, the environment consisted of more forested lands. They were traveling on a narrow dirt road, across the hilly landscape, heading towards a distant city that the purple dragon could just barely make out.

The city was beautiful, it sat in the middle of a barren plain, appearing so much like the Burned Lands back in his universe. The city, tucked between two massive mountain ranges, was within a massive, glowing blue dome, a forcefield, and he could just barely make out a massive stone wall, made of sandstone it appeared, surrounding the city. Judging from their distance from the city (they were still several miles out) and how large the walls appeared from here, Spyro didn't doubt if the walls were over 200 feet tall, if proportionately thick, he estimated they would be about 100 to 150 feet thick. As Spyro glanced around at his surroundings, he caught the cold, ice-blue glance of the Commander, glaring at him angrily.

"It's about time you woke up, purple boy," the Commander said, embittered.

"Where am I?" Spyro tried to ask, but he soon realized that he had been gagged.

However, the Commander still seemed to understand him, and he replied, "I don't know where in the hell we are...or where we're goin'...though I assume it's yonder city. One helluva sight ain't it? I bet you anything though, once we enter there, we ain't never gonna leave."

"Cynder...where's Cynder?" Spyro tried to say through the intruding gag.

"I don't know where she is...hell...I don't know where _anybody_ is. I woke up about an hour ago, in this situation, I haven't seen a sign of the others."

Spyro mumbled something else through the gag.

"Damned if I know if they're okay," the Commander answered, "I'd assume so...considering we seem to be all right. Wherever we're goin' though...I've got a nasty feeling about this."

Suddenly, the Commander turned to the stranger in rags beside him, "Oi! The hell we goin'?"

The stranger, speaking in a thickly Cajun accent, replied, "To New Alexandria."

"New Alexandria? That city over there?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To meet our fates."

"Say what now?"

"The _Caeda_, they are going to kill us."

"How can you be so sure?"

"They kill all prisoners."

The Commander seemed stunned, "They can't kill me! I'm their goddamn leader!"

"No you are not, I've met their leader...or their 'representative' as they call him."

"I have the rank of Commander! I founded that army!"

"No you didn't."

Suddenly turning to Spyro, and with panic layering his voice, the Commander said, "Man, I've got a really bad feeling about this."

"You're not the only one," Spyro tried to say.

"We need to find the others."

"No," Spyro mumbled, "We need to survive!"

"I'm surprised, I thought you'd want to go out looking for Cynder."

"I do."

"Stop talking!" came a harsh command from the driver, "Or I will shoot!"

"Go to hell, dumbass!" the Commander countered.

Suddenly, a masked soldier in the passenger seat opened a trapdoor to the cab, poked in the barrel of a P2K, and fired a single shot into the Commander's thigh. The Commander let out a furious growl of pain and howled, "Ow! You cheap-ass, lowlife, son of a bitch! I will kick your motherfucking ass!"

"Silence!" the driver ordered in a thickly German accent, "Or we will shot again!"

Despite his rumble of fury, the Commander otherwise remained silent, watching, twitching, as blood ran freely down his leg, dying his olive-drab pants leg black. His hands, bound behind his back, twisted and turned as he tried to break out and stop the bleeding, but to no avail.

As they grew closer to the massive, walled city, Spyro noted how the Commander seemed to be growing tired, and how his face and body paled tremendously, the blood continued to run freely, and now had gathered in a shallow pool on the floor of the vehicle.

"Don't sleep," Spyro mumbled, "You will die."

"So...tired...but I...won't sleep."

Even though he said this in an attempted reassuring voice, his voice grew ever more distant, and he began to lower his head. He was losing conscious as he slowly bled out, and by the time the vehicle stopped just outside the gates of the city, the Commander had passed out, resting his head against the wall dividing the cab from the cargo hold. His lips were beginning to turn blue, and Spyro felt dread settling in, there was nothing he could do to save his friend, he only hoped that they reached their destination soon. Perhaps their captors would provide medical treatment for the Commander.

Finally, the prisoner transport was allowed access as the gatekeepers and sentries seemed satisfied, and the massive steel door leading into the city opened as the truck traveled through Checkpoint A. Almost immediately upon the transport's entrance, the outside door closed, and the transport once more stopped as they haggled with the sentries to enter Checkpoint B. Spyro's assumption was right, the wall was about 150 thick, with a hollow chamber just inside the outer door. There were two steel doors, one leading out into the country, and one leading into the city. Glancing up, Spyro could see soldiers patrolling on the wooden ramparts above them. Finally, the steel door opened, and the truck cruised past Checkpoint B. Upon entry into the city, Spyro was stunned by its beauty.

Inside the walls, there were about one and a half miles of thriving, green grassland between the walls and a sparkling lake, three hundred feet wide, that acted as a moat between the grasslands and the actual, well-developed city. Crossing the murky waters was a steel, suspended bridge, originally black, now orange with rust. The city itself resembled massive metropolises like Chicago or New York, full of massive skyscrapers. As the truck crossed the bridge and entered the city, it turned left at the first intersection and kept going until arriving at the mountains that acted as the walls for the western border of the city. Isolated just beneath the mountains, a massive, beautifully-architectured building lay in the center of a complex surrounded by electrified, barbed wire fences. Guard towers dotted the complex, and patrolmen wandered around, armed to the teeth. As the truck entered the maximum security prison, Spyro was deeply alarmed by the site of the thirteen guillotines standing nearby. The blades, rusted with age, were stained red, and the ground itself was stained from the blood of the grisly weapons' beheaded victims.

Upon arrival at their destination, Spyro knew that he was not intended to ever leave, and the thought of losing his head to those sinister blades caused him to shudder uncontrollably. The transport stopped, and seven muscular, barrel-chested, steel-clad guards opened the door. They dragged out the sobbing Cajun and then set to work on treating the unconscious Commander, stopping the blood flow, preparing him for blood transfusions, and dosing him with opiates, apparently they wanted to preserve their prisoners for an execution intended for a public audience.

While three guards cared for the Commander, the others forcefully grabbed the dragon and muscled him out of the truck, shooting him up with sedatives. Dazed and confused, Spyro saw as another transport arrived, and although he couldn't see its occupants before he was forced inside the prison, he sensed his mate on board, and hoped the others were in there as well.

Just inside the prison, Spyro, now on the verge of unconsciousness thanks to the sedatives, was dragged across the polished marble floors towards a grimy-looking reception counter, the workers protected by bulletproof glass and six-inch steel bars. Spyro, unable to move his limbs even if he wanted to, enjoyed the guards' grunts and huffs as they carted his dead weight to the counter. Several minutes or several hours passed, Spyro couldn't tell, time moved far too slowly, as did his mind, as the guards chatted with the receptionists. Several times he passed out, but was abruptly awakened by a painful administrated shock via an unseen tazer that one of the guards held.

The world seemed like a dream as he was lined up for photographs, fingerprinted, searched, and taken to the warden's office. Seated rather uncomfortably on the floor, the purple dragon tried to adjust his position, but his numbed limbs, feeling like lead weights, did not permit movement. For an unknown length of time, the guards talked with the warden, a cruel-looking old man with buzzed hair, stabbing blue eyes, and always smoking a thick cigar. Several times the warden approached him, observing the dragon, lifting and outstretching the paralyzed dragon's wings, observing and flicking each spine on his back, touching or fingering various orfices in the warden's search, and inspecting each scale, lifting several of them as he searched beneath them.

Finally, the warden said something to the guards, and Spyro was lifted and carried away across the complex, eventually being thrown and landing-rather painfully-on the cold stone floor of a small, dismal cell. Unable to move, Spyro laid there in his uncomfortable position, his body sore and aching, unable to move, unable to think or talk straight. Finally, he felt his conscience flutter, and found himself in a brief out-of-body experience before all consciousness left his sedated body.

_To Be Continued..._


	27. Chapter XXVI: Prisoner of War Part Two

**Mission III - Part II: Prisoner of War **_**Part Two**_**: Facing Death**

_-4:17 PM_-

"Wake up you filthy animal!"

Spyro's eyes shot open as he gasped for breath. Five guards stood around him, and one of them had kicked his exposed stomach. He scrambled up, doubling over as he struggled to keep from vomiting.

"Follow us! _NOW_!"

Hesitantly, Spyro walked towards gathered guards, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that all of this was nothing more than just a dream. He was thrown up against the wall as he was handcuffed, chained, and blindfolded. Terrified of what was going on, he was forcefully dragged across the compound, wondering where he was going. Once he heard the squeaking of a door, and saw a golden light shine through the thin fabric of his black blindfold, his heart was filled with dread as he realized where he was, and what was about to happen. He struggled to fight back tears as he remained completely still. Although the sedatives had worn off, fighting his captors would only cause them to dose him up again, and he needed his motor skills if his risky plan were to be put into action.

His captors stopped, and he was forced to stand still. He stood, head lowered, as his blindfold was pulled off, and he winced as the golden light of the afternoon momentarily blinded him. Once he was able to see again, he looked up and around, and was horrified by what he saw.

Guards were lined to either side of him, weapons trained on all of the raggedy prisoners who stood in line, waiting for death. At the front of the line, a black-hooded executioner stood beside the rope pull of a guillotine, sharpening the edge of the blade. Judging by the red, wet liquid on the blade, and the coppery tinge to the air, Spyro knew that the guillotine had recently been used. As the dragon awaited his turn, he looked up to see a helmet-less soldier standing at the front of the crowd. Spyro's dread was further weighted as he saw the mass amounts of bloodthirsty citizens, waiting to witness this round of executions.

Glancing around and nodding at the other guards, the helmet-less soldier walked to the front of the crowd and began administering introductions. Once they were finished, the soldier called the Cajun that had ridden with the purple dragon. Letting out a moan of despair, the small man was escorted by several guards and forced to lay down on the rotted wood bench. Spyro couldn't look, but at the same time, his eyes wouldn't leave the sight.

"Spyro!" came a faint whisper.

Spyro turned, and was both horrified and overjoyed to see his mate placed in line beside him. The Cajun man was first, then Spyro noticed the Commander was second, he was third, and Cynder was fourth in line.

"Cynder...I...I didn't want you to see me like this..."

Cynder replied, "At least we can be together in death once more."

Spyro nodded, unable to control tears. As tears trickled slowly down his grimy face, he heard the helmet-less soldier speak up, "_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me_. _Amen._"

The crowd let out wild catcalls, and one man cried out, "Oi! Get on with it!"

The Cajun, still crying, seemed more accepting of his demise after he repeated the prayer. As the executioner prepared to pull the rope, the man began to recite the Lord's Prayer, and Spyro looked away as the blade fell. After hearing the sick sound of metal slicing through flesh, and the thud as the head hit the ground, Spyro heard his mate let out a squeak of terror.

"Richard Cummins," the soldier began, "You have been accused and found guilty of illegally crossing the border and for your support of the opposition, what say you in your defense?"

"I say go fuck yourselves in the ass," the Commander replied, "Burn in hell, all of you."

The soldier nodded to a guard, and the Commander was forcefully shoved forward, "Hey! Don't fucking touch me," the Commander hissed, but he was forced forward. As he was forced to lay down on the bench, and his neck was fitted in the guillotine slot, Spyro couldn't keep his silence, and crying openly, he was comforted as Cynder hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. The guards stepped forward to separate the dragons, but the soldier leading the executions shook his head, and they backed up. Once more, the soldier spoke Psalms 23:4, and the Commander, struggling to maintain self-control, followed suit. Once the niceties were over with, the Commander called, "Spyro..."

The dragon looked at his friend as the executioner prepared to pull the rope. The Commander turned to the executioner and said, "Hold on a moment, let me finish what I have to say."

The executioner sent the lead soldier a glance, and the soldier nodded.

"Spyro, Cynder, I know I have been a crappy friend and ally to you, I'm sorry. Listen, carry on and avenge me, please, I pray you avenge me, and everyone else whom we loved that fell. Don't cry..." he then said, but his own voice was growing less stable, as he choked back tears, "I'm better off now...no more war...no more death...peace. I...I'm not fearing this, I won't fear death."

"Commander! Talk them out of it!"

"No, Spyro, this is my destiny...you have yours..."

"Commander..."

"Goodbye Spyro, Goodbye Cynder...it was nice knowing you guys, we had fun..."

Deeply saddened, the dragons listened as the Commander's final words were, "I'll see you in Hell."

Suddenly, the executioner pulled the rope, and the dragons looked away, unable to witness as their friend fell to the blade. Spyro was shoved forward, but he kept his eyes closed as the guards cleaned up the corpse and once more prepared the blade for another execution. Unable to open his eyes, the lead soldier once more ran through the introductions, telling Spyro his apparent crimes, and what he had to say in his defense. He was speechless, and after several moments of silence, the dragon was forcefully subdued and placed on the bench. As he looked at the bloody ground, knowing very well that the blade was ready to drop, he was suddenly overcome by a welcoming, warm sense of peace, accepting death as he realized what was coming.

"Don't hurt..." he prayed, "God...please don't make it hurt...and don't let Cynder see this."

However, as he looked back, he was heartbroken to see Cynder watching, her tearstained eyes would not leave his, and Spyro knew that she would be with her mate until his death. "I love you..." he whispered.

Cynder, unable to control her emotions, tried to run forward, screaming, "Spyro! NO!"

The guards were faster than she, and she was instantly subdued. His gaze remained fixed on the dragoness...the one he loved with all of his heart, the one whom he never wanted to leave. He found death even more accepting realizing that at least he and Cynder had been able to be together. As the soldier finished with reading the verse, Spyro squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the executioner grab the rope. A single tear dripped down his cheek, landing on the blood-spattered ground...and then...

A deep roar, screams of panic, and the thick smell of sulfur and brimstone penetrated deep into the dragon's nostrils. As he opened his eyes, he was terrifed to see the soldier and the executioner thrown back, staring at a massive, armored dragon standing before them. The armored beast opened his mouth and spewed a great jet of fire, causing the terrified group to panic.

"Spyro!"

Through the chaos, Cynder was instantly at the purple dragon's side, untying the straps pinning him to the table. Now free, he stood, embracing his mate as he cried tears of joy. The execution yard afire, the two dragons turned to face the beast that had saved them. The dragon, clad in black, red-trimmed armor, was emerald green, and his emerald eyes were an instant identifier. "Piermont!" Spyro cried.

Mounted on the dragon's back, the Master Chief opened fire with a turret, blasting away the guards in a cloud of plasma rounds. The guards dispatched, the Chief leaped down from Piermont's back as Ignitus, with mounted Reznov and Fox, and Flame and Ember landed beside Piermont. "Oi! Look who we found!" Flame called.

Piermont roared again as he said, "Spyro! Get the hell over here!"

Spyro and Cynder sped to the dragons as the Master Chief, being surrounded and attacked by four armored soldiers, abruptly unsheathed his energy sword and slashed his attackers. More troops surrounded him, and activating his overshields, they were sent away as electric pulses shot through their bodies.

"Looks like you two need some help," Ember said.

"Thank you," Spyro replied, stunned at the perfect timing.

As the Chief opened fire into the onslaught with his battle rifle, he called back, "Where's the Commander?"

"He didn't make it!" Spyro called back.

The Master Chief once more scaled Piermont's back as the entire party took to the skies. After setting fire to various parts of the city, the Master Chief called over to Spyro and Cynder, "So, where do we go now?"

Reznov replied, "I think we should visit DC."

"Why? It's under siege."

"If the _Caeda_ wanted us dead, then perhaps their enemies will help us."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend..." Spyro muttered.

"Exactly," Reznov called.

"Then let's go," the Chief replied, and the group shot towards the east, leaving a trail of destruction and fiery ruin in their wake.


	28. Chapter XXVII: A Time of Mourning

**Mission III - Part III: A Time of Mourning**

-**Chicago, IL**-

-_8:11 PM_-

Spyro perched on the ledge of the roof of an abandoned skyscraper, looking towards the lively city. They had just decided to make camp and had landed on the roof of a skyscraper, knowing it would provide them protection. The others of the group sat around a heating vent, being warmed by the hot air blowing at them as a blizzard raged on around the country. It was cold, very cold, but Spyro didn't pay any heed, and he had broken away from the main group.

Now, he stood, perching precariously as he stared off, not speaking, not moving. When Fox and Flame had returned with supper, Spyro had said nothing, had not even addressed the group, he just stayed in that eerie position of his, and Cynder, disturbed by her mate's actions, worried if he was pondering suicide. Despite the reassurances from the rest of the group, Cynder was still worried, and when she couldn't bear it any longer, she wandered over to him, "Spyro? Are you okay?"

Silence.

"Spyro...come join us, it's cold out here."

Still no movement or speech from the purple dragon. At first, Cynder feared he was dead, but when she saw his great, golden chest heaving unevenly, she realized that he was silently crying, and Cynder was filled with a deep sadness and love for her mate's vulnerability. She tenderly hugged him, but his body was stiff beneath hers, and he didn't seem to react to her touch...so unlike him. Usually, when she so much as brushed against him on accident, he would at least twitch where she had touched him, now, his body was rigid, hard, and he didn't seem to even know she was there.

Unable to stir a reaction from him, she sighed in disappointment as she returned to where the others remained huddled. "What's wrong with him?" she asked in despair.

"He's mourning," Piermont replied, his head resting on his great paws.

"Poor Commander," Ember sighed sadly, "I hope it was painless."

"I'm sure it was," Fox comforted, "The blade came down so fast, his brain wouldn't have had time to register pain before his head was severed.

"What a terrible way to die," Flame said.

"Actually, it is one of the best ways to die," the Chief corrected, "It's all show, no substance. It's gruesome for the onlookers, but merciful for the victim. He wouldn't have felt anything, he would have been dead instantaneously."

"Still though," Flame replied, "I can't help but fear that he felt something."

"He didn't."

"How do you know? Have you ever been decapitated?"

"No, I haven't, obviously, and I just do."

"He's right, Flame," Fox agreed, "His death would have been so quick, he felt nothing."

"What should we do about Spyro?" Cynder asked.

"Dunno Cindy, that's between you and him," the Chief replied.

"I can't reach him though...it's like...it's like he's not even there..."

"He needs to know that there will be time for grieving later, right now, we have worse things on our plate, such as, how in the hell we're gonna get outta here."

"Well you're a heartless bastard, aren't you?"

"I'm a realist, and I don't have a heart. Hearts are weaknesses."

"So you think."

"They are."

"I'm going to try to talk to him again."

"Good luck Cynder," Fox replied, "You're gonna need it."

As she left the circle towards her mate, she suddenly developed a different idea in her attempt to reach him. Looking back, she ensured that the rest of her group wasn't paying any attention to her, they weren't. Arriving at where her mate stood, she said, "Come join us, Spyro...or at least join me...please? It's so cold."

Nothing.

Getting closer to her mate, and adopting a seductive body position, she tried her luck at seducing him to arouse him from whatever pit he had crawled into. "Come on, Spyro, for me?"

She pressed herself tighter against him, hoping he could feel her arousal, hoping, desperately, that she could somehow coax some kind of reaction from him. However, he still didn't seem to notice her, and one quick stroke beneath his belly and between his legs told her that he was not aroused, and, it seemed, that despite his belly being soaked with her own wetness, he still didn't notice her. Disappointed, she laid her head on his shoulder, scared for him, worried about him. She mentally scolded herself for worrying so much about him, he could take care of himself, but she loved him, and she didn't want to be separated from him again, nor did she want to lose him. In her final attempt to lure him from his mental isolation, she tenderly grabbed his paw, guiding it down her torso and between her legs, making one of his ivory claw enter her...still, he didn't budge, and he still didn't notice her.

Finally, heartbroken, she left him alone and returned to where the group huddled. "No luck?" the Chief asked.

"The hell do you think?" she replied bitterly.

Surrendering to her failures, she curled into a tiny ball and fell asleep, the others were soon to follow. Several hours later, Spyro, starting from his trance, took one final look around the city before stepping off the ledge and trudging back to the small camp. Deeply saddened by the Commander's death, Spyro walked over to his sleeping mate, now sprawled out into what would naturally be the position in which they would sleep together, and laid down against her shivering mass. He sprawled out as well, and pulled her closer to him, wrapping a protective limb around her torso. Cuddling closer, he rested his head on her neck and upper chest, her shivering stopped instantly, and he began to drift off, comforted by the warmth of their combined mass, and the slow and steady heartbeat and breathing of his beloved. As he walked along that thin line between dreaming and awakening, he thought of being curled up within the womb of his mother, not as an egg, but as a livebirth, and as he drifted off, Cynder's slow heartbeat and their combined warmth further enforced his daydream, and he relaxed his tense muscles, allowing sleep to come closer to him.

As he gently and absently stroked her warm belly, he could feel the growing, fertilized egg within her womb, a hard bumb in her otherwise soft belly, and he smiled as he embraced the thought that, soon, he would be a father. His last thoughts, were of how he and his mate would transport the egg after she laid it, especially since they were never stationary for more than a day. As the soft, warm hands of sleep enveloped him, he passed the thought off as something he would worry about at a later time.

His dreams that night were of the tragedy that had so recently occurred.

Later that night, Cynder awoke. As her senses returned, she realized that sometime that night, she had curled into a ball again, and the sleeping mass of her beloved had wrapped around her. Resorting to what she would have done as a newly hatched dragonling to her mother, she pressed herself into a tighter ball, and pulled her mate's limbs around her, so that she was completely enclosed by him, and, as she allowed sleep to return, her tail intertwined with his.

Dawn broke, and Spyro and Cynder awoke almost simultaneously. As they untangled themselves, standing and stretching, the others awoke as well. The Chief, riding Piermont, landed on top of the building, holding a box of donuts. After Spyro and Cynder absently shared a casual kiss, they ran to where the Chief stood.

"Ah, donuts," the Chief replied, "Best damn food to grace the universe."

The others surrounded the Chief, awaiting their breakfast. Once they had eaten, the humans once more mounted the dragons, and they took flight, heading towards the rising sun as they drew closer to Washington DC.


	29. Chapter XXVIII: Washington DC

**Mission III - Part IV: Washington, DC**

**-Washington DC, VA-**

**-**_6:22 PM_-

"Holy shit!" Spyro exclaimed in awe as his eyes fell upon the sprawling mass of the capital of the United States of America.

"Well..." Fox began, "DC has surely grown."

The Chief then added, stark disbelief layered heavily in his voice, "Well I'll be damned, we aren't in _my_ universe. DC has never had a massive wall surrounding it."

The city of Washington DC was massive, covering at least twenty miles of flat, square, land. Surrounding the city was a massive wall, nearly identical to the one that encircled New Alexandria.

"I sure hope these are friendlies," Spyro murmured, nervous at the idea of meeting more enemies after the wake of the Commander's death and his and Cynder's own near-death experiences.

"Even if they aren't," Cynder comforted, "We shouldn't worry, we've faced and conquered much worse in the past."

"C'mon," Reznov sighed, "Let's see the damage this apparent war has brought upon this damned place."

As the dragons lowered their altitude, heading towards the immense metropolis, they all had feelings of worry. This world did not seem right, and they all somehow believed that they wouldn't find friendlies here. They secretly felt that absolutely no one was friendly towards them in this world. As the dragons perched on a collapsed, abandoned segment of the wall, they and their human (or superhuman) riders witnessed as the city experienced a temporary cease-fire.

The entire world was strangely quiet, and although no active battles were occurring, and there were no gunshots being sounded, they could easily see two clearly distinct armies resting at opposite ends of the city. Tanks, obviously having seen the horrors of battle, patrolled the burning streets, firing on all who crossed their path. However, both armored patrols kept to their halves of the city, and didn't venture into the other territory.

"Some battle this is," Flame murmured, "They aren't even fighting."

"It's a cease-fire, both sides have temporarily called a truce," Ember replied, "Just you wait, within a few days, the battle will start back up. But even the most hated of enemies deserve a bit of rest and relaxation, especially when involved into a multiple day-long, harsh battle against an enemy capital."

"Tell me," Fox asked, "Have any of you ever heard of the Christmas Truce of 1918?"

"The what?" Spyro asked.

"Nope," Cynder replied.

"Doesn't sound familiar," Flame answered.

"Should we have?" Ember asked.

"I don't expect you dragons to know, I was actually asking the others," Fox replied.

Reznov, nodding slowly, replied, "When the Germans and the British actually were friendly towards one another for the holidays?"

"Yes," Fox replied.

"My uncle took part in that."

"Which side was he?"

"The British."

"That's funny."

"Not really, he lived in England at the time."

"The famous Christmas Truce," the Chief began, "Quite amusing if you ask me. Two enemy armies, engaged in bloody warfare, actually celebrating Christmas together as friends. How very unlikely it seems, but yes, I've heard of it. It is briefly touched upon in the UNSC's military history program."

"Well, Chief, look at you and the Arbiter?"

"That was a different story, Johnson befriended the Sangheili, not me. I still don't trust them. No matter how many good things they do for us, it will never repay us for what they did to Reach."

"Still though, the Elites joined up with you."

"Sure, after being betrayed by Truth and Tartarus."

"Why are you being negative?"

"I'm not, I'm telling it as it is."

"Anyways, this appears to be a temporary truce. I mean, both armies must be exhausted, the news said this battle has been going on for about a month now, and it hasn't really gotten anywhere."

"Just like Stalingrad," Reznov replied, his voice embittered, "We fought for months, and it was mostly a stalemate. The Third Reich would take sectors and streets by day, then we would counterattack and retake them at night."

"So, how do we decide whose friendly?" Cynder asked.

"Simple," the Chief replied, "Whoever doesn't shoot at us."

"Pfft, good luck at that."

"If both sides shoot, we raise hell and take on both sides until they submit."

"We don't stand a chance," Flame replied with a sigh, "We wouldn't, I mean. There's like, thousands of them, and what? Only nine of us? We'd get our asses kicked before we even started."

"Nonsense," Ignitus replied, speaking for the first time since they departed from Chicago, "Spyro and Cynder took on an entire army of over 4000 armored tanks and countless infantry and artillery batteries."

"Correction," Piermont interrupted, "Spyro, Cynder, Fox, and myself took it on, with Elliot's leadership...whatever happened to that son of a bitch anyways?"

"He's gone..." Spyro replied sadly, "He was killed during our breakout from that maximum security prison in New York."

"Oh..." Piermont's tone adopted a hint of sadness, "Was it painless?"

"He was sniped in the head, I'm sure his death was instantaneous."

"Not to change the subject or anything," Ember remarked, "But what the hell are we gonna do?"

"We'll figure out something, just be patient," Reznov replied.

"I have an idea," the Chief replied.

"What?" Fox and Reznov asked in unison.

"Why don't we just fly over the city and spew fire at everyone until someone acknowledges us?"

Spyro and Cynder immediately started laughing, and soon, Fox and Reznov joined in as well. Flame, Ember, and Piermont were confused by this remark. The Master Chief, appearing innocent, just turned to the confused dragons and shrugged, "I don't know what they're laughing at," he replied, "It's just a suggestion."

"Don't let him fool you," Fox replied, a wide smile on his face, "Chief and his sense of humor are...unusual."

Here the Chief sent Fox one of his infamous glares.

"Well," Reznov began, glancing up at the setting sun, "Perhaps we should start setting up camp. They aren't warring, and so we won't either."

"Resting time?" Ember asked, glancing at Flame.

"Yes."

"I'm game with that."


	30. Chapter XXIX: Taking Sides

**Mission III - Part V: Taking Sides**

-_6:17 AM_-

Spyro and Cynder, curled tightly together in a ball and sleeping soundly as they always did, were startled awake by a loud explosion. Alarmed, they shot up and rushed outside the ruined tower where they had decided to sleep. The others in their party stood just outside the tower on the mostly collapsed ramparts, observing in silence as explosions occurred around them. "What the hell is going on?" Cynder asked Fox.

"Obviously," the doctor began, "The battle has started up again. Hope you rested well, it's hard telling when we'll be able to rest again."

"We'll manage," Spryo replied, nodding at his mate.

"I guess we don't have much of a choice do we?" Flame replied unhappily, exchanging glances with his mate, Ember.

"No, you don't, but there is no sense in bitching and moaning about it," the Chief stated, loading and cocking his rifle, "I say there's plenty of time to rest up after we're all dead."

"By then, though," Flame interrupted, "It's too late to enjoy the pleasures of life."

"Oh b'aww," the Chief replied, shaking his head, "You two are becoming worse than Spyro and Cynder."

"Oi!" Spyro called out, "We need to high tail it outta here!"

"To hell with that idea!" Cynder chimed, "I say let's raise some hell!"

"I agree fully," the Chief replied happily, "I'm always a fan of raising hell."

"Mount up!" Piermont called, "Let's have a little fun here, shall we?"

Once the dragons were loaded, Fox signed for them to take off, and they shot into the air, arching over a skyscraper as they dropped vertically, evening out mere feet from the busted, flaming streets. The dragons then flattened themselves out, streamlining their bodies and increasing speed.

As they turned a sharp corner, a small three-tank column approached and immediately began firing upon the dragons. Dodging effortlessly through complicated corkscrews and strafes as well as other maneuvers, the mounted humans turned their fire onto the column as the dragons spewed fire upon them. Mere seconds after the small showdown began, it ended as the dragons left smoldering corpses and puddles of molten steel in their wake. Flying faster, they injected themselves into another sector of the large battle, and quickly aided whichever side was pinned down by destroying the restraining forces.

"Oi!" the captain of the pinned squad called up, and the dragons hesitantly landed.

The others in his squad murmured to themselves at the sight of the larges behemoths.

The captain interrupted, "Who are you, and where in the hell did you all come from."

"You first," Fox stated.

"I'm Captain Derek Henderson, of the _Caeda_, and this is my squadron, Bravo Company."

"_Caeda_?" Spyro hissed, his eyes narrowing as he adopted his attack formation, "_You_ are the ones who killed a friend of ours."

"We did? I think you have us mixed up with these bastards of the US military, we don't kill people for nothing."

"You are based in New Alexandria, yes?" Cynder asked.

"Yes...why?"

"A friend of ours, Commander Richard Cummins, was killed a few days ago by your troops."

"The Commander? He's alive?"

"He was...why do you ask?"

"Rick disappeared off of the face of the earth years ago...who are you?"

"You _knew_ him?"

"Yes, he was our leader until he departed for NYC about, eh, seven or eight years ago, we haven't seen him since."

"NYC? Did it get destroyed?"

"Yes, that's what ignited this damn war to begin with."

Spyro exchanged a frightened glance with the others in his group.

"What? What's going on?"

Cynder, her voice shaky as she trembled, "We are still in whatever world we were before we were sent back to Warfang...only now we're in the future!"

"Tell me," Spyro asked, "What all has happened since the destruction of New York?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No."

"Where've you been?"

"Not around."

"Fine, fair enough I suppose...anyways, after NYC was destroyed, the Commander and some 'friends' he was helping...which...apparently...were you guys, went missing. Soon after, the US military, pissed apparently at their army's defeat in NYC, launched a full-scale assault on New Alexandria, banged it up pretty bad, but we held and repelled them. Not too long after that, we launched a counteroffensive against them, meeting their retreating army about halfway between New Alexandria and DC. We annihilated them, and constructed a two mile thick wall of defenses, separating the left half of the US from the right. Ever since then, we've been engaged in multiple battles, even having our dragonrider division replacing our wall with a massive wall of dragonfire."

"So that's what the glow is?" Spyro asked, nodding towards the red glow that clung to the horizon.

"Aye, if you guys came straight from New Alexandria, I'm surprised you didn't pass the wall.":

"We were caught by stormwinds and blew an unknown distance northeast, we probably flew around the wall without even realizing it," Fox replied.

"I knew I could sense some kind of dominating presence of fire in that area," Ignitus sighed, "A wall of dragonfire, nearly impenetrable."

"So you guys are friendlies then?" Henderson asked.

"I'm not sure," Cynder answered, "New Alexandria had the Commander beheaded."

"What? Why? Who ordered it!" the captain seemed furious.

"Some self-righteous colonel who 'represents' the _Caeda_," Flame asked.

"Goddammit! That stupid son of a bitch! I'll make sure to have a few colorful words with him. Meanwhile, mind helping us out here?"

"What do you need?"

"There are at least twenty mini-battles, much like this one, throughout the city. We have squads pinned down all over the map. Liberating our pinned squads would be greatly appreciated, then, I want you all to meet with us just outside the town square, and we'll launch a direct mass attack on the White House, where the bastard commanding our opposition is at. We've destroyed all accesses to evac points, so their leader should still be in there."

"We can do that," Reznov replied.

"Good, I'll see you then."

As the dragons took to the skies once more, Piermont called out, "Any clue as to where the mini-battles are at?"

Ignitus replied, "No, but if we scout out the entire city, eventually we'll run into one. Eliminating anyone not wearing the _Caeda_'s colors should liberate the pinned battalions."

"Where do we start?" Spyro asked.

"We'll split up once we arrive in the square, then we can all take different routes."

"We can do that," Cynde replied, "C'mon! Let's go!"


	31. Chapter XXX: Check

**Mission III - Part VI: Check**

-_8:03 AM_-

"URA MOTHERFUCKERS!" Piermont cried, "Haha!" he performed an aerial corkscrew as he opened his emerald mouth and spewed white hot fire upon the opposition. Down below, Piermont and his rider could hear the pinned _Caeda_ cheering as the dragons saved their lives. Once all enemies in this sector of the battle had been neutralized, the _Caeda _forces moved out of their cover and advanced up the main thoroughfare towards Capital Hill, which loomed in the distance.

The skies, although early in the morning, were dark gray, almost black. The sun was concealed by smoke from the burning city. Sparks flew like glowing snow from the heavens, drifting down, mingled with ash, onto the buckled, busted streets.

Across the city, Spyro similarly rescued the pinned forces, and as he made his way towards the center of town, following the advancing _Caeda_, he found Cynder, panting from battle, perched on the eaves of a former, brick, apartment complex. Spyro landed beside her, briefly kissing her as he wiped the blood from a profusely bleeding, shallow cut on her brow. "What happened?" he asked his mate.

"Explosions," Cynder replied, "Shrapnel sliced open my forehead, but I'm fine."

"Sure?"

"Of course," she smiled mischievously, and Spyro kissed her briefly.

A distant explosion caught their attention, and as they heard the pained howls of a dragon whose identity they couldn't recognize, Spyro stated, "I hope the others are okay."

"I'm sure they are," Cynder comforted, "C'mon, we have work to do."

Their breaths recovered, they leaped off of the building and took to the skies once more.

"Taste fire!" Ember called happily, laughing insanely as she breathed fire upon the building sheltering the opposing forces. The building caught instantly, and within moments, those not dead or burning brightly were smoked out of the complex and easily picked off by the _Caeda_ sheltering within a deep crater in the middle of the street.

Another unit freed, Ember was pleasantly surprised to see Flame arrive, landing beside her on the cold, busted, asphalt street. "Hello, Love," Flame replied, gingerly nudging his mate with his muzzle, "Having fun?"

"Oh yes, so much fun."

"C'mon," he began, "Let's find the others."

The dragons all reunited, along with the freed _Caeda_ forces, in the center of town, now deep within _Caeda_-occupied territory, and acting as a staging ground and command post. "Hey!" Spyro called, running up to the rest of his group with Cynder close in tail, "Anybody know whose calling the shots now that the Commander is gone?"

They all shook their heads, and the captain whom they had first met stepped onto the lead tank of a parked column, a megahorn in hand. "Alright!" he called into the device, his amplified voice reverberating off of the broken, ruined buildings. The world was eerily silent, the only sounds being the cracklings and poppings of fires and the occasional collapsing building, "We're only a few miles from where we have confirmed their leader has taken shelter. C'mon! Let's finish this battle once and for all! Move out!"

With battle cries emerging from the large crowd, the _Caeda_, headed by Spyro, Cynder, Flame, Ember, Fox, Reznov, Master Chief, and Piermont, began their march towards the capital as the battle neared its climax.


	32. Chapter XXXI: The Return of the Ape King

**Mission III - Part VII: The Return of the Ape King**

_-48 Hours Earlier..._-

"Sir! Sir!" a young private dashed through the surprisingly unscathed White House towards the Oval Office. The door was wide open, and the President of the United States stood with his back to the door, facing out the window at the burning city before him.

Without turning around, the President said in an eerily calm voice, "Yes, Private?"

"Sir! The _Caeda _are almost upon us! If we don't do something now, they'll overwhelm us within hours!"

"Then stop their advance."

"How? The majority of our military is based out around the country, and the _Caeda_ managed to gather over half of their forces against us here! Even our elite troops can't hold them off much longer!"

"We must repel them somehow."

"How, sir? What should we do? We're running out of options...and time!"

"Think of something, consult with that double-crossing Colonel."

"I did, and he doesn't know. They aren't listening to his orders!"

"For one thing, calm down, Private. For another, think of something, I refuse to accept defeat. Do something, anything, as long as you turn the tables on them."

"That self-proclaimed psychic, _Limbo_ or whatever his name is..."

"You mean that odd man who thinks he's our personal entertainer?"

"Yes."

"What about him?"

"He thinks he might have a plan."

"Hmm, it might be interesting to hear what _he _has to say."

"Should I talk to him, personally, it sounds like a load of bullcrap...but who knows, maybe it's something legit."

"We have no other option, try anything."

"Yes sir, Mr. President."

"Good. Dismissed, soldier."

"Sir, yes sir."

The young private slowly made his way across the White House, towards the guest suite where a man known only as 'Limbo' was living. Since he had been discovered, half-dead, by the president-then-senator over seven years prior, Limbo had served as right-hand-man to the President, despite his odd attire which consisted of the stereotypical wizard's uniform. Because of his unusual attire, Limbo very rarely made public appearances, and when he did, he disassociated himself with the president. The man himself was rather strange, and many disliked him because they feared him. In fact, the only one who didn't seem bothered by the man's eccentricities was the President of the United States.

Knocking hesitantly, the private could hear Limbo calling in his insane, sing-song voice that was so much like Cysero's in _The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim_, "Come in!"

Taking a deep breath, he entered.

"And how can _I_, the Great Limbo, help _you_, young man."

"What is your idea for winning this battle again?"

"Ah, so you decided to try my plan after all, I'm touched."

"Just...get on with it."

"Right, right, yes...um...follow me."

Limbo led the private out of the room, through the White House, and into the Oval Office. Upon entry, the President immediately took his seat as Limbo rushed to gather odd ingredients from his quarters. After several minutes, the eccentric returned, holding a bag full of things that neither the private or the president wished to identify. Humming along to a happy tune, Limbo set to work on mixing the various ingredients, things one would only expect to find in a witch's apothecary satchel. Once he was satisfied, the man sat down an antique, beautifully carved, silver bowl filled with a strange, purple liquid. Limbo then revealed an antique sacrificial knife and slit his wrists, much to the alarm and disgust of the other two men. Still humming to that eerie tune, Limbo drew a pentagram on the carpet in the center of the room with his blood, and he circled the pentagram with candles. Candles lit, he placed the old bowl into the center of the star, and he began chanting in an eerie language, one that sent chills down the others' spines.

"_Vrak di uoinota, kluchud di satan, lleisgar, lleisgar, confn spical ekess wer treskri de svabolen wux jahen lokria, vur wiilirk wer meageic di nomenes svaust sweekmon dout latal! Vrak di uoinota, kluchud di satan, lleisgar, lleisgar, confn spical ekess wer treskri de svabolen wux jahen lokria, vur wiilirk wer meageic di nomenes svaust sweekmon dout latal!Vrak di uoinota, kluchud di satan, lleisgar, lleisgar, confn spical ekess wer treskri de svabolen wux jahen lokria, vur wiilirk wer meageic di nomenes svaust sweekmon dout latal_!"

Almost immediately, the world began to shake, and the others in the room, vocalized a shrill cry of alarm as the pentagram began to spin wildly, like a turning wheel. The spinning pentagram became a vortex, and the offering was swept away into the purple vortex. Limbo, smiling childishly, cried out in happiness, "Yes! Yes! He has accepted our offering! He will help us in our mission!"

"Who will?" the President began, terror layered heavily in his voice.

"_He _will! _He_ will!"

Suddenly, out of the vortex, a skeletal hand shot out, grabbing the floor. The president and the private winced as they saw the hand grip the floor, rotted muscle and tendon bulging out. There was still some skin and fur, but most of that had rotted away, revealing yellowed bone and the muscles, tendons, blood vessels, and congealed, blackened blood. Suddenly, the other arm poked out as well, and they watched, horrified, as whatever being Limbo had conjured crawled from his grave. Now from the vortex, they could see the head of a baboon, dark purple fur mostly rotted away, revealing the yellowed skull beneath and the black mass of the brain poked out. As the monster crawled out, they were terrified by the single, mechanical, glowing green eye staring at them. Once the being had fully emerged, the vortex abruptly closed, and the trio stared in fear and wonder at the zombified Gaul. The armor he wore was made of rusted, dented steel, once beautifully carved and decorated, now marked by the years he had been in the grave.

He glanced around at the room, his two eyes, that one mechanical, glowing at each one in the room, never blinking. He spoke, his voice grisly and gritty, corpse-like, "Your summoning requires a price."

"What kind of price?" the President asked, trying to maintain his cool, despite the fear the being struck in him.

"The fatal kind," the Ape King suddenly thrust his bladed arms through the President's chest, impaling him on his wrist blades. The President's face took on a terrified look as he began to gargle and choke. Terrified, he looked down, moaning as he saw the blade entering his bloodied chest. He cried out in fear and pain and he heard a disgusting rip as the arm tore out through his back. Blood spattered on the ceiling, the floor, and the back wall, and blood ran from the President's wounds. His cries of pain and fear were abruptly cut off as Gaul withdrew his arm, grabbing the President's neck and ripping his head from his shoulders in a spray of blood and gore. Blood spurted from the severed jugulars as the headless body collapsed forward, a pool of blood quickly gathering around it. Gaul, throwing the head down, then grabbed the private by the shoulders, and the latter cried in bloody terror as he felt himself being ripped in half. More blood spray, and Gaul threw the two halves of the former private onto the ground.

Limbo, laughing hysterically, choked, "Now! It's _MY_ turn!"

Gaul walked up to the psychopathic wizard and impaled him. The wizard continued to laugh even as Gaul ripped his still-beating heart from his chest, and devoured it. Satisfied, Gaul walked up to the blood-spattered window, glancing outside as he began to mutter in a low, ominous voice. The sky darkened, and he smiled his corpse-like smile as many Ape ghosts rose from the ground, standing in place, preparing for an attack. "Devour them, my minions," he stated, "Make sure you enjoy the taste of every living being in this land. Prepare for an ambush, and prepare for an attack."

He laughed a gritty laugh as he watched the fight unfold, and he sealed the fates of the new arrivals.


	33. Chapter XXXII: Checkmate

**Mission III - Part VIII: Checkmate**

-_Now..._-

"Ura!" Reznov cried as they approached Capital Hill.

"URA!" the rest of the _Caeda_ replied enthusiastically.

"To war, my friends!" the old Russian began, "The great finale of this long battle is near! Achieve our objectives! Storm the Capital! Kill their Leader! SHOW NO MERCY! Achieve these, and victory _WILL _be ours! The end is here! Let's finish the fight!"

"URA!" the remainder replied.

"_CHARGE_!" the steady march became a stampede as the _Caeda_ adopted a brisk sprint, charging up the hill and immediately engaging the small remainder of enemy troops. The battle could very well decide the outcome of the war, success was critical, and failure could have dire repercussions.

However, the blood of the _Caeda_ was filled with adrenaline, and the troops were fueled by bloodlust. Victory, the end of this long, costly battle, was finally in their grasp, they just had to reach and grab it, and they would succeed in their goal. As they drew closer to the White House, the amount of living opposition drastically reduced. With the looming White House now only a few hundred meters away from the quickly advancing army, they were alarmed to find no enemy soldiers waiting to engage them. Confused, the brisk sprint the forces had maintained ended as they came to a stop, glancing around and searching for the enemy. Normally, the worst of their opponents, and the largest concentration, would be where the ultimate goal was, especially in such a vital battle to both sides. Yet strangely, there was no one, there were a few corpses strewn about, and a lot of blood, but no living souls in sight.

"What the hell?" Spyro replied, disturbed.

As he and Cynder stepped forward, walking towards a large puddle of blood, with a large, bloody drag mark leading up the street towards the White House, he knelt to the ground, drawing one claw through the blood. "What happened?" Cynder asked.

"Holy hell...this is fresh..." Spyro replied, drawing his paw away and staring at his blood-smeared claw in disgust.

"I wonder what happened...and where the corpses are..."

Suddenly, a strange growl filled the air, coming from what sounded like hundreds of voices, emerging from the shadows of all the surrounding, decimated buildings. The air suddenly adopted an even darker vibe and aura, and Spyro muttered, "Oh no..."

Suddenly, hundreds of ape ghosts hopped out of the surrounding buildings, and the _Caeda_ began to panic.

"Son of a bitch!" Cynder swore, "Ghosts!"

The ape ghosts resembled skeletons, glowing an almost electric blue. Immediately, the apes leaped onto soldiers, bringing them down, tearing them apart, and consuming them. Spyro, Cynder, Chief, Reznov, Piermont, and Fox broke ranks, fleeing from the bloodbath as other _Caeda_ troops, even key members, followed suit. Chief shot off a ghost that had attacked him and as his overshields recharged, he muttered, "Jesus Christ, these guys are worse than the Flood."

"We need to get the hell out of here!" Ignitus cried, emerging from the chaos with Flame and Ember close in tail.

...And then, the attacks stopped.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't for Spyro and his bitch, Cynder."

Spyro's blood ran cold at the voice, and as he turned, he saw a zombified Gaul standing on the White House balcony. The undead ape king laughed a corpse-like hoarse that gave the group a reaction similar to that obtained after hearing fingernails clawing a chalkboard. "Run!" Spyro cried, but a wall of fire shot out from the ground in front of him, sending him flying back.

"Now, now, Spyro. Why don't you stay and play for awhile? It's been so long."

"Go away, Gaul! Before we have to kill you again!" Cynder hissed, roaring.

Gaul laughed, causing the group to wince, "Do you believe you can harm me, Dragon? Cynder, Cynder, Cynder, Malefor was _so _upset when you refused to accept his offer to mate. Few are ever blessed with the opportunity to mate with the true king of the world. He nearly killed himself out of regret."

"Aww, poor baby. I feel so bad now," Cynder's eyes narrowed.

"Did you tell your current mate about that?"

"Yeah, Cynder," Spyro began, "What's he talking about?"

"It doesn't matter..."

"Ah, Cynder, but it does."

"Fuck you, Gaul!"

"Dirty, dirty. You've developed such a potty mouth since we last met."

"Go to hell!"

"Already been there, sweetie, and back," he laughed again.

Irritated, Cynder took to the skies and charged the ape king.

Letting out a hellish roar, Gaul opened his mouth and breathed a blast of white hot fire. Cynder was caught in the inferno, and she cried as, smoke rising from her burned body, she free fell from the sky, hitting the ground hard and rolling to a stop.

"_CYNDER_!" Spyro howled, and ran to his fallen mate.

She was burned badly, the skin on the right side of her body already burning and melting. She was gasping for breath, and Spyro cradled his mate, screaming to Gaul as tears slid down his face, "You bastard! I will kill you and send you back to hell again!"

"Try, and you'll end up just like that whore."

"You stupid, goddamn motherfu-"

Suddenly, he grew dizzy, and collapsed, breathing heavily.

"Spyro?" Ember asked, running to his side, "Spyro! What's wrong?"

"G...G...G..." 

"Spyro!"

"G...go...go n...n...n...now!"

He howled in pain as he began to glow orange, and in an instant, they were whisked away, sent flying through a strange blue vortex. As the glowing white end of the vortex through space neared, they blacked out.


	34. Chapter XXXIII: Arrow Through the Heart

**Mission III – Part IX: An Arrow Through the Heart**

-_11:11 PM_-

"Cyn...Cynder..." visions, so many painful visions, "Cynder..."

"_Spyro! Help me!_"

"_Cynder!_"

"No!" Spyro muttered in his sleep, tossing and turning, "Oh God...please...no..."

"_SPYRO!_"

Blood...blood everywhere! Fires burning, brightly, hotly, feeling as if the very gates of Hell had opened.

"_CYNDER!_"

"_Help me, Spyro! Please_!"

Spyro stared in stunned silence as the portal of Hell opened before him, a great, spike-lined maw breaking the charred and dead grass, releasing all of the demons that were suffering in eternal torment there.

"_Cynder!_" Spyro rushed to her side as she slid ever deeper into that great maw, ever deeper into the recesses of the earth. _So much pain..._ he thought, _So much heat..._

The visions flashed through his mind repeatedly, all of the scenes and stills that the demon on Hell's Peak had shown him...all of them...in a continuous slide show of sheer terror, and then...with their combined, mingled sweat acting as a lubricant, their paws slipped away, and Cynder fell loose, falling into the deep abyss...

"CYNDER! _NO!_" and Spyro shot up, panting, terrified. He looked around him, unsure of where he was exactly. The world was pitch black, and the ground was spiky, hard, stabbing into his sides and belly, depressed pressure points sending jolts of pain shooting through his limbs. He quickly stood, feeling around for whatever was poking into him. With a great jet of fire, the dead cornfield ignited, and Spyro struggled to isolate the fuel for the flames, so that he didn't burn the whole field down. He felt liquid warmth running down his forehead, and wiping away the liquid, he tasted it...the coppery hotness of blood.

Wondering what all had just happened, Spyro immediately realized that none of the others were around him, and he began calling their names...his words echoed in the windless night.

Panicking, Spyro struggled to keep from hyperventilating as everything suddenly came back to him...he cried out in agony at memory of Gaul when suddenly, out of the darkness, emerged a pained cry, one voice that he was all-too familiar with, one voice that had whispered many a sweet nothing in his ear as they were pressed together in a mating embrace...

"Spyro..."

His ears pricked up, and he immediately sped around, groping in the dismal light from his fire as he struggled to find the love of his life.

"Spyro...please...help me..."

Finally, he felt the warm, soft scales of his mate's side, and the small, round unusual hardness of her expanding belly...and warm...sticky liquid.

"No..." he whispered as he clear the broken stalks away, revealing his burned, bloody mate, "Please God no..."

Cynder's emerald-sapphire eyes were shining with sadness and pain, and he could barely make out her beautiful, black form beneath the red mess of congealed blood and blistering flesh. An acrid smell, almost like burning hair, surrounded her form, and her flesh was crisp, charred...she was burned, very badly.

"Jesus no..." unaware of the pained cries of his beloved, and the odd feeling of her damaged flesh, Spyro hugged her tightly, struggling to speak as tears trickled down his sooty face and choked him.

"Spyro...I'm so...sorry."

"No, Cynder...don't be...you did nothing wrong..."

"Please, Spyro," she was gasping for breath now, speaking with each exhale, "Don't...don't leave me."

"I won't, I promise."

"Please don't leave me..."

"Don't leave _me_..."

"Forgive me..."

"You did nothing..."

"I've done everything."

"No, you haven't."

"I'm sorry."

"Please don't apologize..."

"I don't want to die."

"I don't want you to die either."

"We need to find the others...and Gaul."

"No, we need to find a doctor."

"Oh God...the baby..."

"The baby will be fine...don't worry."

"Oh God...I...I think I'm...ah!"

She moaned and writhed in agony, and Spyro was alarmed to realize that an odd-scented puddle was around her...and it wasn't blood. "Oh no..." he muttered.

Unsure of what to do, Spyro shot up, speeding around the field as he desperately cried for help, hoping someone, anyone, could hear him. Realizing he was all alone, he rushed back to his mate's side, collapsing beside her. Suddenly, he felt something click within his mind, and he willingly allowed his instincts to kick in as he aided Cynder into the proper position for the eggs to arrive safely. With Cynder in oviposition, Spyro knelt by her lower torso, opening his palms as he saw the first of her clutch appearing through her vulva, pulsating as if she was in the throes of orgasm, even though she wasn't.

The egg, slick with liquid and as green as emerald with red stripes running along its surface in a corkscrew pattern, fell out and into his outstretched paws, leaving a trail of slime dripping from his paws as he quickly prepared a soft cushion beside him and placed the egg in the makeshift nest. One by one, Cynder delivered her clutch, until at last, the rapid pulsating of her organs seized, and one final egg emerged from within her womb. Once the last of her clutch had been delivered, she sighed and collapsed into unconsciousness, leaving Spyro to stare in disbelief at the small pile of fragile eggs beside him.

Fifteen eggs, he could never recall feeling more happy, especially at the realization they were all his and Cynder's. His tears of sadness became tears of joy, and he smiled at the thought of his fatherhood.

The next morning, Spyro awoke early, checking his mate, who was still unconscious. He gingerly shifted her into a more comfortable position and began to clean her scales, of both the crusty blood and the postnatal slime. Once his mate was taken care of, Spyro checked the pile of eggs, and suddenly was heartbroken to realize that their shells were thin, fragile, and translucent, they had all been born prematurely, and the odds of their survival was slim to none.

However, one egg, the first that Cynder had delivered, had a thickness, weight, and transparency that was healthy, and he realized that this one would surely live. Still, he took care of the eggs for several hours, until the rotten stench of death began to emerge from them. One by one, he dug holes into the hard, un-plowed earth and began to bury the eggs. Eventually, only one egg remained...the healthy one, and Spyro, obsessively protecting and cleaning it, sat around it, cradling the egg within his limbs, keeping it pressed against his chest, keeping it warm. He could feel the fetus' heartbeat, rapid and random, and he hoped, prayed, that it would survive.

He brought his mate closer, keeping the egg tucked between them as they both kept the small infant warm against the bitter cold winds. For several days, they remained there, Cynder lapsing in and out of unconsciousness, and Spyro taking care of his family. Once Cynder's condition worsened as a fever overtook her, and the smell of decay began to surround her, Spyro quickly fashioned a pouch out of various weeds and cornstalks, carefully placing the egg within as he wrapped the pouch around him, tightening the makeshift straps and ensuring that the egg remained pressed against his warm, soft belly. Within tender care, he nudged Cynder's still, wrecked form onto his back, appreciating the exercise he had been getting recently, and he began his long journey towards a direction unknown, carrying both his child and the dead weight of his delirious, unconscious, and wounded mate on his back.


End file.
